


Plane Spotting

by Maisie_top_trash



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Addiction, Crimes & Criminals, Drug Use, Manipulation, Overdose, Rehab, Sexual Abuse, Substance Abuse, Trauma, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-03 16:56:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19468198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maisie_top_trash/pseuds/Maisie_top_trash
Summary: After getting discharged from rehab on the same day, Josh and Tyler become a complicated version of friends. Josh stays clean after his stint, recently celebrating 2 whole years on the straight and narrow, whereas Tyler doesn’t even make it out of the parking lot before shooting up again.Even though Josh knows it’s unhealthy to be around a user every day, he can’t seem to stop himself from trying to help Tyler, even if he doesn’t appreciate it.TW in notes





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Triggers for whole fic below, skip to avoid spoilers  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> TW:  
> Description of heroin use  
> Heroin overdose  
> Suicidal thoughts and attempt (hanging)  
> Prostitution  
> Mention of rape  
> Childhood sexual assault, paedophilia  
> Disordered eating, weight loss  
> Implied alcoholism  
> Violence  
> Murder  
> Description of wounds  
> If you have any questions, either about something on the list or something that’s missing, please comment below <3

“You’re high again,”  
“I, I, I, I, I not,”  
“Get in,” Josh sighed and stepped back, opening the door wider so Tyler could stumble through, toes heavy and balance off.

“Where are you going?”  
“Ma, ma bed,” he whipped round at such speed that he almost fell down, but his eyes were drooping and slow.  
“It’s not your bed, it’s mine, this is my apartment, you don’t live here Ty, and you gotta stay up for a while so you don’t choke on your own vomit or die in your sleep.”  
“I fiinneee,”  
“Your pupils are pinpoints, and show me your fresh track marks,”  
“No!” Tyler crossed his arms across his body sulkily, then started scratching his face with his shaking hand.

“Si’down,” Josh sighed, knowing his plans of binging Game of Thrones were off the table for the rest of the night.  
“Hmm?”  
“Couch, now,” he pointed, but when Tyler wasn’t getting it, he went over to him and guided him down onto the blue cushion. “You want a drink?”  
“My mouf’s dry,”  
“Yeh I bet, you want a drink?”  
“I gotta dry mouf,”  
“Tyler, do you want a drink? Yes or no?”

Tyler didn’t answer and Josh was bored of asking, so just went over to the ridiculously small kitchen that was crammed into a closet-sized room and grabbed a 6 pack of beers from the half-fridge and filled a glass with tap water.

“Did you at least get some good stuff today? Or did you get the really dirty shit off the guy selling by the garage?”  
“S’cheap,” Tyler lunged towards the beers as soon as Josh set them down on the table, but Josh took the tin out of his skeletal and scarred hands, instead replacing it with the water.

“It’s cheap because it’s full of crap Ty. It’s cut and cut and cut again, and what you’re shooting is like 10% heroin and the rest is talc and detergent and fucking rat poison.”  
“S’cheap,”  
“You know what’s cheaper? Sobriety.” Josh knew the statement was gonna have zero effect and change absolutely nothing, but it didn’t make it any less true.

“Drink it,” he put his finger on the bottom of the glass and pushed it up towards Tyler’s mouth when he tried to put it down. “Once you drink it then you can have a beer, but you gotta have some water first at least.”

“I wan ma bed.”  
“You sold your bed on Craigslist, remember? I got you a new mattress back at your place but if you want a proper bed again then you’ve gotta actually save up for it yourself or talk to your folks because I can’t afford it right now, especially not if you’re only gonna sell it for skag money again.” Josh reminded him. “And you can stay here tonight, but we gotta give it some time so you’re outta the danger zone, okay?”

“Tired.”  
“Stay awake for me bud, best you can.” He took the empty glass off Tyler and replaced it with a can, opening it for him since his hands were shaking too much to manage.

“You were doing really well. We were at what, nearly 12 hours clean? That’s awesome Ty, that’s pretty deep into the early withdrawals, we’ve just gotta aim for 3 days and then it gets a bit easier from that point on.”  
“I fine,” Tyler had nearly finished the first beer already.  
“I’ll help you out, we’ll do it properly, an actual detox, hey? Because I get it, it’s too hard when you’re on your own, but if you let me help then I can make sure you actually crack through the withdrawals. We can do a 72 hour lock in, me and you, I’ll get all the supplies we’ll need off Maggie down at the centre - she’s always happy to sneak me stuff under the desk so I can get you methodone without the risk of you getting forced into inpatient rehab again, it’s not an issue.”

“I don’t wanna s-stop, I like, I, I, I like it,” his eyelids were droopy and his pupils tiny, and when he tried to put the empty can on the coffee table he missed horrendously and it fell onto the floor, the last few dregs dribbling out and adding to the stains all over Josh’s carpet.

“I thought I liked it too, at least I convinced myself that I liked it too, but in reality it was the worst thing that has ever and will ever happen to me.”  
“I, I, I not you,”  
“No, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get it Ty.” Josh opened a second can for him, handing it over. “I was only 17 when I started, and even though I’m 2 years good now, that’s still over a decade of my life I lost to those fucking syringes.”  
“I like i-it,”

“Did you go to the needle exchange recently? Or you been sharing again?”  
“W’ever,”  
“Ty it’s not a matter of ‘whatever’, it’s important. I’ll take you tomorrow to get some clean ones, then we’ll go get your blood tested again.”  
“I, I, I, I don’t got aids.”  
“We gotta check for HIV and whatever else could be lurking on that crap your jabbing into yourself on the daily. It’s only another poke, you’ll manage.” Josh sighed.

Tyler didn’t seem to have overdosed so he’d probably be fine overnight, until morning came and the withdrawals started and the race was back on to find another hook up. But still, Josh couldn’t take his eyes off him for even a moment.

“Nother,”  
“No, no more, least take a short break so your bladder doesn’t explode.” Josh pushed the remaining 4 beers away from Tyler, taking his empty can away from him too.

Tyler protested with a complaining groan then flopped against the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling with its peeling paint and the light fixture with a blown bulb that Josh hadn’t replaced.

Most of Tyler’s clothes had either been sold for pennies to fuel his habit, or cut off him by EMTs when trying to revive him yet again, and why spend $50 on a new hoodie when that could get you half a gram of good stuff and a little bit more if you didn’t mind the purity taking a back step? So he wore the same thing every day. Grey sweats covered in stains and muck, a once-white t-shirt with holes near the neck and bottom, and a black zip-up with chewed up drawstrings and a broken zip. Sometimes he also threw on a black cap to hide his scabbed face from the light, but today it was absent and Josh wondered whether he’d sold that too.

“Bud, stay awake,” Josh caught sight of his eyes rolling back. “Tyler,”  
“Huh?!” He sat up with a jump.  
“Stay awake till you start coming down, then you can hop into bed.”  
“Oh,”

Josh sighed. Episode 3 was loaded on his laptop and Tyler probably wouldn’t notice if he hit play, but the show required full attention and Tyler couldn’t be left unsupervised at any point.

“Can I borrow s’money?”  
“Nope,”

He was very proud of his laptop. It was second hand and only worked when plugged in, plus the space bar was jammy and sometimes the T key popped off, but it was one of his first purchases made purely for pleasure, and he loved it. He couldn’t afford a TV and streaming subscriptions were too expensive, so most of the stuff he watched was on crappy bootleg sites with weird colour grading and Japanese subtitles, but still he appreciated the luxury every single time he used it.

“Please?”  
“No, you’re gonna spend it on smack.”  
“Just, just $1?”  
“$1? What are you gonna do with $1?” Josh raised his eyebrows. “Is that what Valium’s going for these days?”  
“Bennet does 3 for $5,” Tyler itched his face uncomfortably, mumbling his words.

“I’m saving up at the moment bud, you know that. Though even if I did have any spare, it’s not going in your pocket.”  
“Wh-What if I pr-promise to spend it on, uh, on food?”  
“Tyler I’ve lost count of the amount of my hard earned cash that’s been earmarked for your food and clothes which has actually gone straight to drugs. From now on, if you want food then I’ll buy you food, but I’m not giving you the money and I’m not giving you the receipt.”

“What, what about 50 cents?”  
“No,” Josh laughed a little at his friend’s logic. “Look, everything I earn, literally everything I earn is going into the fund for Ashley’s wedding. I haven’t had the AC on all summer, I’m leaching off the WiFi from the building next door, I’m eating scraps from work, my shoes give me blisters but I’m not getting new ones, and I sure as hell ain’t donating to the Tyler Joseph heroin fund.”  
“10 cents?”  
“No!”

“I like your, I like your apartment,” Tyler started playing with the cushion he was sat on, running his grubby fingers up and down the fabric.  
“You’re not moving in.”  
“Whyyy???”  
“Because they’ve got a no users policy, and I barely managed to get this place even with me being clean because of my record, so there’s no chance that they’ll let you stay. In fact it probably won’t be long until one of my neighbours complains about you loitering here again and I get thrown out.”  
“I, I, I, no-nobody has to knowwww,” he held his finger up to his lips and tried to shush, but in the process spat all over Josh.

Tyler lived in a dump of a crackhouse. There were maybe 6 or 7 people there, all users, and they’d broken into an abandoned house in the run-down part of the inner city and squatted there illegally. Josh didn’t know any of his “house mates” particularly well, but one of them had a tendency to beat Tyler up, and another had died a few weeks back from an OD.

Of course he didn’t want his best friend living there, of course he didn’t, but Tyler had had a nice apartment in a respectable part of town, fully paid for by his parents, and he had treated it like shit. He had sketchy people over every day, there were needles and foils all over the place, a few minor fires, no such thing as sanitation, and after he flooded the place and consequently the downstairs apartment too, the landlord kicked him out.

His parents offered to get him another place, even offered him his childhood bedroom back, but Tyler disappeared for a while and ever since then he’d refused to leave the crackhouse, even with their attempts to put him through rehab over and over again.

“If you’re done staying with your place, you could ask your parents for help.”  
“Send me, they’ll send me away,”  
“Just for a couple of days to get you clean,”  
“I don’t, I, I, I don’t wanna be clean,”  
“Why not? You enjoying existing like this?”

Tyler gave him a blank stare - or maybe he’d slipped from reality again, it was hard to tell the difference sometimes, then all of a sudden stood up with such haste that he almost fell straight back down again.

“You, you, y-you, you,”  
“Plan your sentence before you speak Ty,”  
“You got any, um, you got anything strong?”  
“To drink? Nah bud, I’m sober, I just get the beers in for you. You better appreciate that by the way, $5.79 out of my budget,”  
“A-and you won’t even give,” he hiccuped. “And you won’t even gimme a dollar?? Wow,”  
“Oi, don’t get lippy with me mister, I won’t get anything in for you next time.” Josh yawned, watching the junkie taking awkward steps across the room.

“Where, um, where,” he started scratching his head, “where’s y’toilet?”  
“I’ve lived here for over a year and it’s the size of a postage stamp, and you still can’t find your way round?” Josh chuckled at him. “That door. You need any help?”  
“Per, pervert, no,” Tyler stumbled over to the toilet, closing the door, which was immediately followed by a loud crash which Josh instantly knew was his 3in1 shower wash, toothbrush, toothpaste and comb getting knocked off the little shelf he’d installed. He didn’t even flinch.

Tyler was a lot. He was needy and rude and entitled, and also horrifyingly lonely and vulnerable and miserable and in need of protection.

They’d met in rehab 2 years ago. It was Josh’s first time and it had been a huge success, he was still going strong and planned to keep to it for the rest of his life. Tyler had been discharged on the same day as him and got picked up by his dealer, who held out a bag to him before saying hello.

Josh’s admission was funded by a local charity, something he was incredibly grateful for, and once he was in a better financial position hoped to volunteer for in thanks. Tyler’s admission, one of the dozen he’d been through, was privately funded by his parents. They wanted to help, they truly did, but they had money and no compassion or understanding, so help usually came in the shape of a cheque. Eventually, after over a decade of addiction, they had realised that lining Tyler’s pockets did him no good, but the addiction made Tyler desperate so he went to extreme measures to find money elsewhere. Josh didn’t know which was worse.

His own relationship with his family was complex. Things had been good in the past, then turned really really shit. An asshole for a stepfather had ruined everything and that was part of the reason he got into heroin in the first place. His family hadn’t been sympathetic, in fact they’d been disgusted by him, so he was cut off without hesitation and it had been over a decade since he’d seen his siblings.

He did have occasional contact with his mom these days. It had taken him weeks and weeks after his discharge from rehab to track her down, but eventually he found an address off somebody who knew somebody who knew somebody who knew her on Facebook. He’d turned up on her doorstep, expecting her to scoop him up and tell him how proud she was that he’d made it to 7 weeks clean, but in reality she burst into tears and told him to leave.

He tried again the next day and that time she let him in, but only for 10 minutes before coming up with some excuse and hurrying him out.

Over the months he managed to build it up and up, and now they had an almost stable relationship. It was still very much on her terms, which Josh found complicated because he didn’t feel like he’d done anything wrong - addiction wasn’t his fault, it was a sickness - but nonetheless he took the punishment of her disappointment, and his tolerance had earned him a big reward. He was finally being allowed to see his siblings and it was going to be the biggest day of his life.

Ashley’s wedding.

Mom had got him an invite, but wasn’t helping beyond that. Ashley and her fiancé lived in San Francisco, the other side of the country, and Josh was having to self-finance everything. It was $240 each way on the Greyhound, $150 to rent a suit and shoes that matched the theme that Ashley was sticking to harshly, and $150 for the motel he was going to stay in for the short trip. As if that wasn’t hard enough, he’d asked him mom whether he should get Ashley a wedding gift and she had strongly suggested a Le Creuset stoneware gift set that was setting him back another $100. All in all, the weekend was gonna cost about $900.

It was impossible to get good employment with no work experience, a criminal record and puncture scars on both arms, but he’d been working the morning shift 5am till 12noon at a gas station for 18 months, and had picked up a pot washing job 3 nights a week about 2 months back to patch the gaps for the wedding. He was doing absolutely everything he could to pay his rent and his bills and service the loans he still had outstanding from his years of addiction and also save up.

So far he had $792 locked in a box hidden in his kitchen cabinet and there was still a month to go. It was looking promising.

“I, I, my, uh, my hands are wet?” Tyler came out of the bathroom.  
“Please tell me that’s water...”  
“Yeah yeah, oh, uh,”  
“Go and wash them Tyler. Sink.” He pointed back to the room he’d just come out of, and thankfully Tyler obeyed.

He worried about Tyler constantly, just waiting for the day that he finally took it too far and killed himself. He’d overdosed too many times, his luck must have been close to running out, and all Josh could do was offer a safe roof and companionship.

“Y’know, actually Joshuuaa, j-joke’s on you,”  
“Joke’s on me? Why’s that bud?”  
“I, my, I, I get my food stamps tomorrow, so, so, so I can just use those,” Tyler was wiping his wet hands on his shirt slowly as he made his way back over to the couch.

“You want me to go grocery shopping with you? Help you pick out some sensible stuff?”  
“No??” He looked confused by the proposition. “Some of the, some of the guys by the river take them for, uh, for, for half face value.”  
“You’re gonna trade your food stamps? That’s a felony, right?”  
“You, y-you wenna prison for, for, for years, and you’re gonna talk to meee about the lawww? Hypochondriac!”  
“Hypochondriac? I think you mean hypocrite...”  
“W’ever, you know I right,” Tyler flopped down next to him again.

“You doing okay Ty?” He asked sincerely.  
“Broke.”  
“Aside from finances. You sleeping at all?”  
“I, I, I did lasterday,” Tyler made up a word but Josh quite liked it.  
“Good bud, that’s good. How about the panic attacks? Still having them?”

Tyler shrugged, which meant yes.

“You gonna stay here with me tonight?”  
“Okayyy,”  
“Good. I’m working tomorrow so I’m out at 4.30, and l’ll try not to wake you, but you can stick around if you want - I’ve got cereal, no milk sorry, but there’s bread that you can stick under the grill if you want toast, just remember to turn it off afterwards this time please? All that blue smoke marked the ceiling.”  
“S-Sorry,”  
“That’s okay, easy mistake to make,” Josh patted his thigh fondly.

“Can I’ave another?”  
“You want a beer? Or would you prefer it if we had an early night now instead? Because we can do that if you want,”  
“W-will you come wi’me?”  
“Yeah, sure I will,”

“Um, uh, can, uh, can I have a bath first?”  
“Absolutely you can. I don’t want you to drown though, so either you need to wait a bit longer so you’re definitely on planet Earth, or you need to let me help out. Keep your underwear on if you want,”  
“I, I, I pros-prostitute myself, I don’t care bout that,”  
“But I’m not a client, I’m your friend Tyler, and I wanna respect your boundaries as an individual not a service.” Josh explained, and for a moment he thought Tyler might be on the verge of tears, but the silence was broken up by him hiccuping.

“Will you w-wash my air?”  
“I’ll wash your hair bud, yeah, I got you,” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying something really new this week! 6 chapters so I’m gonna be posting every day, then will probablt never write anything like this again, I just watched trainspotting over the weekend and got inspired. 
> 
> Also, quick disclaimer, I’m a privately educated white girl who grew up competitively figure skating - to claim that I understand the complex world or drug abuse and gangs and poverty is soooo far from the truth, so (obviously) this might not be accurate, for which I apologise and will take advice on! 
> 
> Back to my usual content next week, for now, enjoy this experiment!
> 
> Maisie


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully y’all saw my TW on the last chapter and haven’t read this if you’re vulnerable, but TW for OD and emet on this chapter

It had been a couple of days since he’d seen Tyler, which meant 1 of 2 things. Either his parents had sent him off to rehab for another shot - you never know, 14th time lucky - or things had got a lot worse.

Being a pessimist naturally and having depression, Josh’s imagination immediately jumped to the worst possibility. Tyler was probably dead. That or one of his housemates had beaten him black and blue again, or one of his clients had been too pushy and too controlling and too violent and he’d got hurt again, or he’d got caught up in between two drug empires clashing and become collateral damage again. Or maybe he hadn’t found a fix quick enough and he was withdrawing on some street corner again, sweating and vomiting and crapping his way to an early grave, again.

Tyler had a phone, a shitty burner phone that cost $10 and Josh had to top up for him all the time. He pretty much only used it to arrange pick ups, but occasionally a text would come Josh’s way. Not this week though, and he’d ignored the dozen or so that Josh had sent, checking in with him.

He tried to calm down by convincing himself that Tyler had probably just run out of credit, or maybe he was in rehab and they had locked it away in the contraband closet. There were plenty of logical explanations, maybe it had been stolen, or Tyler had simply lost it, or it had broken somehow, or, or, or maybe-

Josh’s phone started ringing in his back pocket and he jumped so hard that his heart rate spiked through the roof as he scrambled to answer it.

He hated the fact that he was disappointed to see his mom’s caller ID.

“Hey Mom, long time no see, how are you?”  
“Joshua? Where are you?”  
“I’m walking back from work, currently like 10 minutes from my apartment, why? Is something wrong?”  
“No no, gah, I’m trying to help Ashley arrange final details for the wedding and it’s all very stressful. I told her you’d be fine with not sitting on top table?”  
“Uh yeh, okay, I mean if there’s not space then sure,” Josh’s stomach sank as he was isolated and ostracised by his own family yet again.

“I also passed on the details of that motel you found and she says it’s too far from the venue so you need to change your booking,”  
“It’s a 1 hour and 40 minute walk according to Google maps, but if I manage to keep to my budget for the next 3 weeks then I’ll be able to afford an Uber on the day of the wedding. I promise I won’t be late.”  
“No, she doesn’t want you staying in that part of the city, apparently there’s a lot of prostitution in that motel and she doesn’t want the guests finding out we’re associated with that kind of behaviour,”  
“I can’t afford anywhere else,”  
“She wants you to be closer to our hotel - not in it but near it, apparently there’s a Clarion hotel the next street over that she wants you to book into.”   
“Clarion?? You’re joking, right? I budgeted $50 a night, their rooms are like 10 times that! Mom I can’t,”  
“It’s her wedding Joshua,”  
“I’m sorry but what do you expect me to do?! I can’t afford it!”  
“Well maybe if you’d had a job for the past decade rather than shooting heroin then you’d have some savings you could turn to!”

Josh didn’t say anything, just kept walking towards his apartment with his phone to his ear, trying to stay calm and collected.

“This means a lot to your sister and I know you want to make a good impression on her after all these years,”  
“Yeah,” Josh sighed heavily.   
“Can’t you just ask one of your friends for the money if you’re not able to be independent?”  
“I’m, um, I’m already in quite a lot of debt and I’m trying to pay it all off so I don’t want to make more for myself, and besides, my friends don’t have that kind of money just laying around. But I’ll, uh, I’ll, I’ll try something Mom, maybe see if there’s someone on Craigslist in the area who’s willing to let me crash at their place. Would that be better than the motel?”  
“Just as long as they’re not whores or junkies,”  
“I’ll do my best,”

Mom had the money, it was just pocket change to her, but she was still punishing him for having an addiction so wasn’t going to offer a helping hand any time soon.

“Ashley also wants a picture of you in your suit to make sure it won’t clash with all the groomsmen outfits,”  
“She picked the suit, I did as she said,”  
“She told you the colour and now she wants to make sure you got the right shade - light grey is very variable Joshua.”  
“I’m renting it so I don’t actually have it yet bu-“  
“You don’t have it?? Joshua the wedding is in 3 weeks!”  
“And I’m picking it up the day before my bus leaves, so there’s plenty of time. I can forward you the picture off the website if she wants to check it though,”  
“Websites lie.”  
“This one had good reviews.”  
“Reviews can be faked.”  
“I trust it.”  
“You’re a fool,”  
“Thanks Mom.” Josh couldn’t resist replying sarcastically.

“I’m only trying to ensure everything is perfect for Ashley. It’s the biggest day of her life.”  
“I know, I appreciate that, I do, I, I just, it’s a big day for me too.”  
“For you?”  
“Yeah, it’s the first time I’m gonna see any of them since you kicked me out. Abigail was 7 and now she’s what, 20? I’m nervous too and I’m stressing about the details too, and I don’t want finances to get in the way but at this point in my life, that’s just the ways things are, and I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t act like this is just a stage in your life that’s happened to you through no fault of your own; you did waste your life on drugs,”  
“I know Mom, I’m not ever gonna forget, so I don’t need your reminder every single time we talk,” he was starting to sound bitter but she was wearing him down.

“Please don’t make Ashley’s wedding about you Joshua. Of course you can reunite with all your siblings but don’t let that dominate. They still deserve to celebrate and relax and enjoy their day, even though you’re coming.”  
“No I know, I’m not gonna take over.”  
“In fact maybe it’s best if you leave straight after the dinner?”  
“What about the first dance? And the disco and fireworks afterwards? Am I not invited?”  
“Well there’s going to be lots of alcohol around so maybe you should do what’s safest and head off before you get triggered by anybody drinking.”  
“I’m a junkie not an alcoholic Mom. I don’t drink but I’m not tempted to either; I can manage drunk people just fine.”  
“Take the hint Joshua.”  
“Heard loud and clear Mom. I’ll leave before things get casual and people start taking off their blazers and rolling up their sleeves - last thing anybody would want is to see the puncture scars on the bride’s brother. I hear you.”

“You’re starting to sound very entitled Joshua. This is a privilege, a very big privilege, and you’re not in the position to be trying to negotiate the terms of that privilege. Either you do as Ashley says or we rescind the invite - I’m not having her stressed out because of you, understand?”  
“Yeh, sorry,” Josh couldn’t say what he was truly thinking. “I’ll, um, I’ll talk to the hire company, see if they’ll let me try my suit on, and if they do then I’ll send pics. I’ll also try and find some better accommodation. I don’t think Clarion is realistic but I’ll do what I can, maybe see about upping my hours or finding a third job or something.”  
“Good.”

Josh turned the corner onto the street with his apartment block. It wasn’t an especially nice street, there were potholes everywhere and the overhead lights didn’t work anymore and almost every pavement slab was cracked or covered in gum, but that made it cheap and so Josh could manage living there.

He wasn’t paying attention to the state of the surrounding infrastructure though, he was paying attention to the crowd of people surrounding somebody collapsed just a few metres away from the entrance to his building, and instantly knew who it was.

“Ashley also wants-“  
“Mom I gotta go, talk soon,” he hung up on her and raced over to the crowd.

“Is he breathing??”  
“He literally just collapsed 10 seconds ago,” one of the men told him and Josh pushed them aside, falling to his knees at Tyler’s side.

His breath was shaking but his mind was sharp as he slipped one hand under Tyler’s head to keep it off the ground, then put his ear to his mouth to listen for breathing. It was there but erratic and weak.

“Hey buddy, hey, it’s Josh, can you hear me??”  
“I’m calling an ambulance,” a lady dove into her bag to find a phone.   
“Nah don’t bother, he’s just another crackhead, don’t waste any time or hospital resources on him,”  
“Mate? Fuck off?!” Josh spat over his shoulder at the asshole. “Don’t call an ambulance, I’ve got Narcan in my apartment, I’ll handle it,”  
“Why do you have Narcan??”  
“Bet he’s a fucking junkie too,”  
“I’m saving his life aren’t I? Why does it fucking matter?” Josh scooped Tyler up, bridal style, and started staggering up the stairs as fast as he could. The overdosed addict was gargling inhumanly, eyes rolled back in his head, limp.

“I’m telling the landlord you’re bringing a crackhead into the building,”  
“It’s not crack, it’s heroin. At least be accurate if you’re gonna be a twat,” Josh wanted to punch him in the face, but his hands were a bit preoccupied. “Someone grab the door?? Please?! I’m in a rush!”  
“I got it,” a young woman volunteered and opened the door, letting him through then following after him.

Thankfully none of the assholes came with and Josh could focus on the fading life he held in his arms.

The elevator was broken so Josh ran up the stairs, 3 at a time, Tyler’s weight barely slowing him down, until eventually he got to the fourth floor and stopped outside his door.

“Key’s in my back pocket,” the told the woman, who pulled it out and started unlocking the door. “Alright Ty, alright, nearly there,”

“Where’s the Narcan?” She asked once she managed to gain entrance and Josh rushed to the carpeted living room and put Tyler down on the floor. He quickly grabbed a pizza menu that had been stuffed under his door off the coffee table and slid it under Tyler’s head in case he puked, rolling him on his side so he wouldn’t choke.

“It’s in here, don’t worry,” Josh grabbed the kit from the coffee table and quickly assembled the applicator and the cartridge, having done it so many times that he no longer looked at the instructions. He tilted Tyler’s head back and sprayed half up each nostril, then had to sit back and wait for it to do its job.

“Come on bud, come on, you’re okay. Wake up for me Ty, come on, wake up,” he started rubbing against his sternum with his knuckles harshly, knowing it would hurt and hoping it would stimulate some kind of reaction from the unconscious man.

“How quickly does it work?”  
“Give it a minute or so,” he told the volunteer.   
“Should I call 911 now?”  
“He’ll be okay,”  
“Is that wishful thinking?”  
“He’ll be okay! He has to be okay!” Josh snapped at her, immediately regretting to. “Sorry,”

“You know him, don’t you?”  
“Yeah,”   
“Sometimes the best help you can give someone is the kind that they don’t want.”  
“Huh?” He wasn’t really paying attention to her, too busy rubbing Tyler’s skeletal chest.   
“Rehab. That’s why you don’t want an ambulance, right? In case they put him into rehab? But look at him, he needs help,”  
“I can help him,”  
“I think-“  
“I don’t care what you think! You’re a random stranger, you, you don’t know anything! Please, can you just go??”  
“Fine, but if you actually cared about him then you’d let a professional deal with this.” The woman left, closing the door behind her, and Josh could focus on Tyler again.

He hadn’t even realised that he had started crying.

“Come on bud, come on, wake up for me, come on, I need you to wake up Ty, please,”

Tyler wasn’t showing any improvement and, even though Josh could feel his feeble breaths with his hand to his chest, he was managing to convince himself that his best friend was dead.

“How much did you take Tyler? Jesus, are you gonna need a second dose of Narcan?” He was asking himself really. “Come on buddy, don’t do this to me, come on,”

At that exact moment, Tyler’s head lurched back violently and immediately he started gagging, so Josh made sure he was even further rolled over on his side to let gravity help, and sure enough a rush of weak-yellow vomit spewed from his mouth, sticking to his lips as he groaned.

“Alright bud, alright, Josh’s here. Anymore coming up?” He stroked his back soothingly. “You’re alright, I’ll clean it up, just get it all out,”

“Wh-wh-wha-whe,” Tyler sat himself up - it always took Josh by surprise just how substantial and rapid the progress was with Narcan.

“Take it slow, you’re okay, just take a moment to breathe for a bit,” Josh tried to encourage Tyler as he wiped the vomit off his face with his shirt. “You’re okay, I got you,”  
“I-I, I died, didn’t I?” Tyler’s voice was slurred ever so slightly.   
“No, you OD’d but I caught you in time.”  
“I, I just died,”  
“You were unconscious but you were breathing and had a pulse the whole time,”  
“I’m, I, I’m dead,” Tyler tried to stand up but didn’t have the coordination, so Josh sprang to his aide, guiding him up whilst avoiding the vomit down his front and still on his face.

“I saved you, you’re saved, you don’t need to panic, you’re saved, yeah?” Josh tried to convince him whilst also hovering alongside as he staggered towards the kitchen unsteadily.

“Am I in, uh, is, is this Hell?”  
“Feels like it sometimes, but no, this is my apartment and you’re safe here, okay?”  
“They said, they, they said I’d go to Hell,”  
“Who said that? Because they’re liars Ty - when the time comes, which it won’t do any time soon, but when it does eventually come you’re gonna go someplace nice where you don’t have to hurt no more.”

Tyler gagged again so Josh rushed him over to the sink, just in time for yet more puke to line the basin.

“Okay, okay, that’s it, okay,” Josh kept his hand on Tyler’s lower back, feeling the bones of his spine against his palm. “Get it all out your system,”  
“I don’t, I don’t like it,” he sounded small, and scared.   
“I’m here, I’ve got you. Don’t, no, don’t wipe your face with your shirt, I’ll grab you some toilet paper - you okay for 2 seconds?”  
“Don’t go,”  
“I won’t,” Josh listened to his plea with a sad sigh. “Why don’t you take you shirt off actually, clean up with it, then I’ll wash it for you and you can wear something of mine, hey?”   
“O-okay,” he started shaking.

“Lemme help,” he couldn’t bare to watch Tyler’s struggle pathetically with the tinged white shirt, so orchestrated his limbs for him, ensuring none of the puke down the front touched him. Once he got it over his head, Josh scrunched it up into a ball and wiped Tyler’s mouth and chin, then used another part of the fabric to mop his chest in case any remnants had leaked through.

“There we go, bit better hey? Are you gonna throw up again? Or do you wanna swirl and spit now?”  
“Huh?” Tyler didn’t understand, brain not fully functioning even with all the blockers now in his system.   
“Here,” Josh grabbed a glass off the drying rack and half filled it with tap water. “Take a mouthful but wash it around your mouth then spit, understand?”

Tyler took the glass, grip loose, and chucked some of the water back, a little dribbling down his chin, then spat it out. No more than half a second later, more vomit followed.

“Where’s all this coming from, hey? Didn’t realise you had room for so much inside this tiny body,” Josh wasn’t disgusted by vomit - sure, the smell wasn’t great, but for years it had been him, bile on his chin, gross aftertaste plaguing the roof of his mouth, and all he had wanted was for someone to see him as a man beyond the state he was in. Now it was his role to be that person for Tyler.

“Rinse again,” he directed him and Tyler listened, spitting out slightly off-coloured water into the sink, then doing it again, and a third time.

“Better?”  
“Better,” Tyler sniffed as Josh flicked the tap on and sprayed the water all around the sink with his hands, washing the contents away down the drain.

“Do you want a bath first or should I get you a hoodie?”  
“Hoodie,”  
“Course, do you wanna come to my bedroom with me or are you okay staying here for a moment?”  
“Promise to come back?” He made eye contact for the first time since regaining consciousness, eyes bloodshot and bulging with tears.   
“I promise I’ll come back,” Josh touched his arm reassuringly, smiled, then took the single step that saw him out into the hall.

The advantage of the cramped living space was it only took him a few seconds to get to his bedroom. He didn’t own a closet - they were offensively expensive for a few planks of wood - so instead kept his clothes in cheap plastic containers from Costco, one for each different type.

Without hesitation he dove into the outer-layers box and retrieved his brandless black hoodie from Target then rushed back to the kitchen, finding Tyler trying to climb up onto the half-height fridge but struggling.

“You can sit up there if you promise not to pass out and fall forwards,”  
“I, I, I, my legs are tired,”  
“You wanna go to the couch?”   
“I, um, I, I want a hot choc- a Josh’s special hot chocolate,”  
“Well a Josh’s special hot chocolate you shall have kind sir. Sit up there for a minute whilst I make it, yeah?” Josh hooked is hands under Tyler’s arms and lifted him up onto the top with no trouble at all, then helped him put the hoodie on, which drowned his emaciated form.

“Comfy?” He checked and Tyler nodded, pulling his legs up and hugging them close.

Josh’s special hot chocolate was a last ditch attempt at getting some kind of goodness into his best friend. He didn’t really know anything about science or nutrition or if it even worked, but he kept tubs of protein powder and bulking powder and vitamin powder which he discretely spooned into a mug, alongside 2 big scoops of hot chocolate powder, then added hot water.

Personally Josh thought it tasted like shit, but ever since the first time he’d convinced Tyler to try it under false pretences of being an ordinary hot chocolate, he’d become somewhat obsessed. Maybe it was his body craving the nutrients, maybe he appreciated having something warm for a change, maybe his addictive nature had struck again, maybe he just liked the weird taste of all the different flavourings combining with chocolate, but almost every single time he came over, he asked Josh for one and he happily complied.

The powders were kind of expensive but he knew that Tyler’s diet was abysmal so he saw it as an essential purchase and didn’t mind splashing out on replacements every couple of weeks. Thankfully most of the tubs were still about half full, so he wouldn’t have to dip into the fund for Ashley’s wedding to buy more.

“Alright be careful, it’s still quite hot,” he turned back to Tyler, “you’re shaking, lemme carry it till we sit down,” Josh helped him clamber off the fridge then walked with one arm around his waist, keeping him close as he guided him towards a place to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your feedback so far! 
> 
> In case this is the first fic of mine that you’ve read, I usually write mental health related fics that are based largely on personal experience whereas I know absolutely nothing about drug abuse, so hopefully this is still up to par <3
> 
> Maisie


	3. Chapter 3

“I wanna do it,”  
“Hey Ty,” Josh smiled as he reached the door to his apartment, finding Tyler slumped against, for once actually conscious enough to address him. “Sorry I kept you waiting, I’ve been at work, do ya remember what we agreed after your OD last week though dude? You gotta stay at least a few metres away from the building without me with you because I’m on my last warning, or else I’m gonna get kicked out for letting you loiter,”  
“Sure, sorry, whatever, but did you hear me? I wanna do it!”  
“You wanna do what?” Josh asked, giving him a hand up then unlocking the door.

He had spoken to the manager of the restaurant and upped his pot-washing shifts to every single night of the week, and after that evening’s one of the chefs had made him up a takeout box of lasagne as not all the slices had been sold that night and it was better than going to waste. It was also better because it meant Josh could actually eat that day.

“72 hour lock in, I wanna do it. You, me, here, plus a shit ton of methadone and preferably some fucking handcuffs if you’ve got some; let’s do it, let’s detox,”  
“Oh, oh wow,” Josh wanted to get excited at the prospect but couldn’t.

“Close the door and let’s not open it again till I’m clean,” Tyler was bouncing around, pumped by the idea for once, giddy grin on his face, and Josh was proud of him for it but hated the fact that he was going to have to pull him down to Earth with a bump.

“You know, if you’re ready to get clean then I can easily call your parents and have you in a proper rehab facility within the hour,”  
“I don’t want a facility, I want you,”  
“And I wanna help you, I do, but-“  
“But what?” Tyler froze, stopping moving for the first time since they went inside.

“I’ve g-“  
“You promised Josh.”  
“I kn-“  
“You promised me!”  
“I-“  
“You promised me!!” He was getting worked up, he was getting angry, and Josh could never predict what would happen once he got into a state.

“I-“  
“You-“  
“Tyler let me talk god dammit!! I want to help you, I want nothing more than for you to be clean, I am so unbelievably proud of you, and I have been waiting for those words to leave your lips for so incredibly long,”  
“But...”  
“But it’s midnight and I’ve gotta be at the gas station in 5 hours for my shift till midday, then I’m potwashing again 2 till 11, then the gas station again the day after. I’m working 18 hours a day at the moment between the two jobs, I, I wanna do a lock in, I really really do, but I’m only home from midnight till 4.30am and it’s gonna be like that for the next 2 weeks till I can quit the restaurant.”   
“Get someone to cover, quit, I don’t care Josh just please, I'm ready now and I wanna change now and I don’t know when or even if that’s gonna happen again,”

Josh’s heart knew Tyler was right and it was all he’d ever wanted to hear, but, but,

“Ashley’s wedding,”  
“Oh I wish you’d shut the fuck up about that damn wedding Josh!!”  
“Don’t say that! It’s my sister’s wedding! I haven’t seen any of my siblings since I was 17 years old and finally I’m getting the chance to be with them, to be involved in my family’s li-“  
“And how much is costing you??”  
“Why does that matter??”

“Don’t you see, Josh, they keep putting the price up and up and up, saying you need a more expensive suit and more expensive gift and now a more expensive hotel room - they’re trying to choke you out! You’ll manage to get the target for the new hotel and your mom will say that you’re only allowed to come if you buy the groom a fucking Rolex or something; they don’t want you there and they’re using money to try and stop you.”

Everything Tyler said was accurate, which was very unlike Tyler’s usual spiel, but Josh didn’t want to listen.

“That’s not true, that, that’s not true,”  
“The original budget you needed was what? Back when your mom was gonna get you a plane ticket? Like 300 hundred bucks and they didn’t expect you’d even be able to afford that, but you kept proving them wrong and now you need like 5 times that. Josh, they don’t want you there, and they’re not going to let you go even if you work yourself to the bone and somehow manage to afford the cheapest room in that fancy hotel. I bet you’ll get to San Francisco, having spent all your hard earned money, then your mom is gonna say that Ashley changed her mind and kick you to the curb all over again.”

The words coming out of his mouth were the thoughts that haunted Josh at night. He knew, deep down he knew that Tyler was right.

“Don’t say that about my family, don’t fucking say that. They love me.”  
“Oh, they do? That’s why they tried so hard to help you when you first started getting hurt and started using?? That’s why they’re so proud of you now that you’re clean?? That’s why they want to hang out with you so often and are trying so hard to help you be involved with this wedding??”  
“Shut the fuck up Tyler!” Josh wasn’t in the mood for his bullshit.

He was exhausted and stressed and had to be out the house again in just over 4 hours for another day of bullshit minimum wage labour, and all he wanted to do was sleep.

“Your family’s hardly the greatest so I don’t know what exactly your fucking point is,”  
“My family’s shit, they just throw money at me and then act surprised when I spend it on smack, but at least they’re not trying to swindle me,”  
“They’re not trying to swindle me, they’re making me prove how badly I want this,”  
“Why? Why do you have to prove yourself to them? Your family are making you suffer-“  
“And guess what Ty? I made them suffer for years. They didn’t know whether I was dead or alive, they had to constantly worry about whether I was curled up in some alley withdrawing or overdosing on dirty cut shit or fucking walking off into the street whilst high. I made them suffer so-“  
“If you think they gave or currently give a toss about you then you’re deluded.”  
“And if you think talking to me like that and disrespecting the ones I love the most is a good tactic to convince me to quit my jobs and nurse you as you puke and shit your way through withdrawals then you’re truly nothing more than a dumb fucking junkie.”

Josh walked away from Tyler, not caring whether he followed or not, and went into his kitchen with his little container of lasagne. He didn’t own a microwave and it took too long to heat up his shitty oven, so he grabbed a fork from his drawer and started eating it cold, leaning against the fridge with a sigh.

“I’m, I’m about 5 hours clean, the withdrawals are gonna start soon, please.”  
“Like I said, your folks could have you in a clinic within the hour,” Josh took another forkful.   
“I can’t do it without you,”   
“I’m working, sorry,” he shrugged, not in the fucking mood for once.

“Please,”  
“After the wedding, I’ll be able to drop the second job and have more time to help you out, but there’s no flexibility right now. My family come first.”  
“A-am I not family?”  
“No.” Josh avoided meeting his eye, starving so cramming more cold lasagne in, stodgy congealed cheese sticking to the roof of his mouth.

“Please Josh, I need you,”  
“Of aaaalllll the fucking days you could have chosen, you decide today is the one to get clean?? No Tyler, no, I don’t fucking buy it. You’ve been a fucking junkie for almost half your life and you choose now - really?! You know how long I’ve been waiting for the chance to bond with my brother and sisters, you know how much this means to me, and you fucking know that the only thing that would possibly stop me from going is if you really truly needed me here. Well guess what Tyler, this round of manipulation isn’t gonna work, okay bud? My whole life since I got clean has involved being your fucking carer and once, just one fucking time, I wanted to do something for myself, and you're so jealous that I’ll be putting other people before you for a few days that you will try anything to keep me by your side. Nope, no, not happening. If you’re serious about getting clean then we’ll do it after the wedding, but you’re not gonna be able to manipulate me into devoting even more of my time to you.”

“I’m not manipulating you, I’m asking for help,” he was scratching his cheek, already knocking a scab which started to bleed. “Please, I want some help, please,”  
“If you want to get clean then go call your mom, she’ll pick you up and get you back into rehab or back in touch with a proper addiction coach or even just on methadone to manage yourself. If you really wanted to get clean then you can do that without me Ty, and I will be so fucking happy for you, but we both know that a lock in isn’t about sobering you up, it’s about you keeping me under your control, just like I have been for the last 2 years.”

“I don’t control you, I, I, I’m not in control, I’m not in control of anything, e-especially not you,”   
“I am a recovering addict and I am exposed to heroin every single fucking day because of you Tyler!!”  
“Why are you being so mean?” He whispered.   
“I’m tired of it, okay? I’m tired of never knowing where you are or if you’re safe or when I’m next gonna see you, and I’m tired of my every thought being about you and whether you’re okay and sleeping and eating and still fucking breathing. You, you invade every single moment of my life and now I’m finally trying to sculpt a life for myself which is beyond this addiction which has haunted me, and you won’t let me do that! You won’t let me move on for even a few days Tyler, and I am exhausted.”

“I’m try, I, I’m, I’m trying to help you,”  
“What part of guilt tripping me into quitting my jobs, meaning I won’t get to my fund target, meaning I won’t be able to go to my sister’s wedding, meaning I’ll let my family down again, and they will never ever give me a second chance, is supposed to be helping me Tyler?”  
“They’re tricking you,”  
“You’re tricking me!”  
“I’m not!”  
“You’re pretending to want to be clean to force me to stay here with you. You’ve done it before, earlier this year, the night before my interview at the cafe - which you knew was my dream job at the time - you made me miss my shot because you like coming here in the afternoon and didn’t want me to change from the 5am shift at the fucking gas station, and I know you’d do it again Tyler. You’re predictable and I’m done dancing to your tune.”

“You’re being mean to me,”  
“I’m just being honest with you.” Josh sighed. “I’m so tired Ty. I’m working crazy days, I’m sleeping like shit because the closer I get to the wedding, the more anxious I become that I’m gonna screw it up, and the last thing I need right now is a 72 hour lock in with you,”

“I, I, I thought, I didn’t, I, I w-“  
“I need to take a shower and go to sleep, I’ve gotta be up soon. Can you go home please?” He tossed his empty disposable container in the trash then quickly rinsed his fork under the tap.

“I can’t,”  
“Why not?”  
“Doug kicked, he, he kicked me out,”  
“Why? Did you steal from him again?” Josh asked unsurprised, and Tyler nodded a little. “Well good job your loving parents live in a 5 bedroom house 10 minutes away, hey?”

“Please Josh,” he was still scratching his face in the place that he often did, meaning the scabs were constant and the blood came quickly, “Please,”  
“How many times Ty? I can’t do a lock in with you right now. If you’re serious about getting clean then blow me away by going to rehab and not cheating your way through the program, and I will be so fucking proud of you, but I think we both know that you’re not ready to be clean yet. Gimme 3 weeks to-“  
“3?! You said 2!”  
“2 weeks till I leave for the wedding, then it takes 61 hours on the greyhound, so 2 and a half days, then I’m staying in San Fran for 3 days, then 2 and a half days back. 3 weeks - not that I should have to explain myself to you Tyler.”

“2.5 and 2.5 and 3, that’s, that’s,”  
“8 days.” Josh did the simple maths for him.   
“You’re leaving me for 8 days? No no no no-“  
“This isn’t about you Tyler! This isn’t about me leaving you, this is about me and my family, and their grace in giving me a chance to become involved again after everything I’ve put them through. Please, for once in your life, can you put your narcissism aside and see that this is something I need to do for me, rather than everything in my life revolving around you.”

“What if I’m not here when you get back...”  
“See! See this is what I mean Tyler! You’re manipulative and narcissistic and you are now literally threatening to kill yourself if I dare to take a week for me. No, enough, I’m done. If you’re that worried about your safety then I’ll call Maggie down at the clinic myself and have you admitted into a long term rehab stint,”  
“No no no, don’t, please no,”  
“Gah! My god Tyler! Don’t you see how manipulative you’re being? You’re claiming to want to detox but don’t want to go to rehab, you’re claiming to be scared about dying but won’t get support, you will say literally anything to keep me here and I’ve had enough, alright? I’m done. Get out of my house.”

“Please Josh,”  
“Is the message not getting through? Are we gonna have an issue here? Am I going to have to call the police and say there’s a heroin addict in my apartment who won’t leave?”  
“No, no not the cops, they’ll, no, they’ll leave me in a cell to detox, I’ll die, please Josh, no,”  
“Then listen to me - get out of my apartment right now and don’t come back if all you’re going to do is try to manipulate me.”  
“Can I at least stay the night? Doug kicked-“  
“You stole from Doug. You did that, it’s not Doug’s fault, you stole from him and now you have to deal with the consequences. Either go to your parents or sleep on the street, I don’t care, just go.”   
“Josh-“  
“No, don’t care, you’re going,” Josh finally grabbed Tyler by the arm and marched him out of his apartment.

Josh hated working at the gas station for a lot of reasons, but funnily enough the 4.30am wake up call wasn’t one of them. He’d pretty much acclimatised to the early start, although it had been getting harder the last few weeks since he started the second job and then dramatically increased his hours in a desperate attempt to meet the goal of a better hotel, knowing it was short term made it easier to manage, and he had his heart set on sleeping for the entirety of the 61 hour bus journey on the horizon.

He didn’t own a car and no public transport ran this early in the morning - not that he could afford it anyway - so Josh set out on foot. His neighbours were always looking for a way to try and get him kicked out, not liking the fact a criminal and recovering addict was living among them, so he always took care to tiptoe out of his apartment and down the stairs, hoping not to disturb any of them.

To be perfectly honest he wasn’t even surprised when he opened the door out onto the street and found Tyler curled up against the building. He hadn’t expected him to get in touch with his parents or a rehab facility, and Doug could be violent so he needed to stay away from his pathetic excuse for a home for a few days till he calmed down. The street was his only option and the patch outside Josh’s home made sense.

“Morning bud,” Josh decided to address him with a sigh, and Tyler looked up at him, pupils as small as pinholes. “You high again?”  
“Yyyeah, I, uh, yeh, I t-tried bein clean, but, uh, but w’too hard,”  
“Yeah it’s tough bud, I hear you, but we’ll get you clean some day, hey?”  
“Sommmee dayyy,” Tyler nodded hazily.

“I’m off to work now and I’m not gonna be back till midnight, so what are you gonna do with your day?”  
“Sit,”  
“You can sit if that’s what you wanna do, but you’ve gotta scoot down a block because you’re seriously gonna get me kicked out if anybody tells my landlord that I’m letting you loiter here again.”

“Whhyy, um, uh, why, Jooosh, why the Mr landlord not like me?”  
“People don’t really like drug addicts Ty, they tend to think we’re dangerous and bring more crime to an area or we’re unhygienic or put them at risk in other ways. Lots of people are super judgemental, and sometimes they’re right but quite often they’re wrong; you and I both know they’re wrong this time, you’re not putting anyone in danger, but still we’ve gotta play by their rules, alright?”

“W-what are the rules?”  
“You’ve gotta stay 50 metres away from the building unless I’m here to escort you up to my apartment discretely.”  
“Metres, how, how far’s that in, uh, in feet?”  
“About 150 I think, but, uh, you see that tree? Stay the other side of that tree, deal?” He pointed up the street and Tyler thankfully followed his finger.

“Josh,”  
“Yeh?”  
“You, you were meeaaann,”  
“Last night? Yeah I was pretty mean,” Josh nodded. “We good today or do I need to grovel?”   
“We,” Tyler hiccuped. “We good,”  
“You been drinking too?” He frowned a little, looking around for cans but not seeing any.   
“Yesss, but I recycled!”  
“Recycling hey? Get you, very responsible, good job Ty. Look, I gotta head off or I’ll be late for work, but stay safe today please?”  
“O-okay,”

“I’ll try and be in a better mood tonight, sorry for earlier, I’m just getting scared about everything coming up in the next few days and your lil ploy came at the exact wrong time, but we’ll try again when I’m back at midnight and maybe you can sleep over at mine if you’re still avoiding Doug? Does that make up for me being harsh?”  
“C-can, I’m, uh, umm, can I get a, yuh, a Josh’s special ho’shocolate?”  
“Sure thing bud, just gimme 20 hours and I’ll be back,”  
“I’ll be waiiiiittiiinnggggg,”  
“Well you gotta wait beyond the tree remember?”  
“Huh??”  
“150ft, remember?”  
“N-no...”  
“You gotta sit over there if you want a hot chocolate.”   
“Walk me plis??”   
“I’ll escort you, happily,” Josh offered him a hand up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Half way done with this one already!!
> 
> Also, to anyone getting IB results tomorrow, massive good luck! Remember grades don’t equal your worth, but nevertheless I hope you’re proud of yourself <3 
> 
> If I hadn’t been hospitalised then I would be getting my results tomorrow which is a weird/shit feeling - now 2 years behind my class, but I suppose the good thing is that I’ve got a plan in place and tutoring has been going pretty good so far, so hopefully I’ll finaaaallly graduate next year 
> 
> Maisie xx


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you guys have read the TWs by now... stay safe

“You’re getting good at these timings,” Josh had barely put his dinner down in the kitchen before there was a knock at his door. “You been using the clock on your phone to wait for midnight?”  
“Nn-no,” Tyler shook his head. “I, I been waiting, I, I wait by the, uh, I wait down the a-alley, then, um, then I wait to see you, then I count to like 20 or 50 or something, then I come too,”  
“You should say hi when you see me, I could help you up?”  
“I can, I, I, I can do the stairs all by myself,”  
“Wow, good job bud,” he smiled falsely at his intoxicated best friend, then opened the door fully and let him stagger into his apartment.

“Work gave me left over chickpea curry, do you wanna split it with me? I’ve got some rice in the back of my cupboard that I could cook up to bulk it out enough for the two of us?”  
“N’hungry,”  
“You’re not? When was the last time you ate?” Josh walked back to his kitchen as Tyler sat down on his couch in the other room.   
“I, I dunno,”

“I’m starving so I’m gonna have rice and I’ll chuck in a whole cup so if you wanna help me out once I start eating then you can,” he called back as he found the crappy pan that had been left in the apartment by its previous owner and he filled it with water then moved it onto the top of stove. Only one of the gas rings worked and even that one was temperamental - in fact sometimes he could smell gas in his dreams - but it was working that night and he started heating up the water.

“Jooossshhh??”  
“Yeeaahhhhh??”  
“Can I,” he hiccuped. “Can I ‘ava beer?”  
“I’ve not got any in right now bud, but I’ll make you a special hot chocolate if you want?” Josh was still in the kitchen but moved to the door to be able to see his friend.   
“N-no,”  
“No? You love my hot chocky!”  
“Uhhh,”  
“I’ll make it and you can leave it if you decide you don’t wanna drink it, how about that? I won’t be mad if you leave it.” He hated waste, loathed watching his hard earned pennies be snatched away by the garbage men, but Tyler was the exception.

Without any confirmation or permission, Josh slipped back into the kitchen and filled a free mug from a butterfly conservation charity with all the different health powders he kept in his cupboard. He couldn’t even remember how he got the mug from the project he’d never heard of, but most of his kitchenware had come from garage sales and flea markets so it was entirely possible that its previous owner was a big fan of butterflies.

Nothing in his kitchen was worth much at all, except for the Le Creuset gift set which was safely tucked away under the sink, and the locked money box he kept in the back of the cupboard which now held $1,182 ready for Ashley’s wedding in a week. He still couldn’t afford the hotel she wanted, but he’d managed to upgrade to a motel which was closer and much more expensive and he prayed that she would find that good enough. He’d been working his ass off for 18 hours a day and finally things were coming together, and all he could do was hope that he’d raised enough.

After finishing Tyler’s drink off and grabbing himself a glass of tap water, Josh tossed a cup of rice from his 5kg wholesale bag into the simmering pan of water, then carried the two drinks back into the other room where Tyler had made himself at home on the couch.

Of course he had noticed the brand new rope burn on Tyler’s neck the moment he opened the door, but only once he sat down next to him could he inspect the severity of the mark. It was red and starting to bruise already, and had broken the skin in quite a few places. It was a textbook hanging wound and Josh hated that he wasn’t even surprised.

The mark of a suicide attempt was also paired with a black eye and no doubt even more bruises beneath the thin jacket that Tyler cowered in.

“You scored a bag or two tonight?” Josh asked and Tyler nodded with a sniff. “Shot up already?”  
“Uh huh,”   
“You been working too?” He enquired after the prostitution that Tyler often resorted to in order to fund his addiction.   
“W-why?”  
“Well you’re just looking a little worse for wear to be honest brother, and it’s my job as bestie to look out for you,”

“He hit me,”  
“Doug? Or someone else in the house?”  
“N-n-no, no, a, uh, a new client,” the word sounded clunky coming out of Tyler’s cracked lips.   
“Did you say that he could?”  
“He, um, h-he, he paid me double what, uh, what I usually get, so, ssso I said he could be r-rough, but, um, but he didn’t stop h-hitting and p-p-punching me. I had to, uh, I had to hit him over the h-head with a, a bottle,”  
“Did you kill him?” Josh tried to remove any judgement from his tone.   
“Don’t think so,” Tyler sniffed, constricted eyes glazed with more than the wash of heroin in his system.

“Was it rape?”  
“He p-paid me f-first,”  
“Was it rape Tyler?”  
“S’fine Josh, I, I, I’m, I’m fine,”  
“You’re not.”

Josh didn’t say anything more. He wanted to hug his best friend but knew that touch might be the last thing he wanted.

“That client of yours, did you meet him at a neutral location or did he go over to your house?” House was a generous term for the crackden but those minor details were not important.   
“My p-place. He kn-kn-knows where I l-live,”  
“Well since you bottled him, he’s unlikely to wanna come back anytime soon at least. It’s over now, it won’t happen again,” Josh was trying to be reassuring but Tyler just raised his eyebrow above his swollen black eye.   
“He likes, um,” Tyler avoided eye contact. “He, wh-wh-what if, um, he, he, he might like it Josh, he might be into v-violence both w-ways,”   
“Are you worried he’s going to come back and hurt you again?” Josh asked and Tyler nodded. “Do you need me to call the police?”  
“I-I’ll go to j-jail ag-again,”

Tyler had served 90 days for possession then 180 days for possession with a prior before Josh had met him, and he had not done well in prison to say the least. The police were not a protection for him.

“Stay here then, don’t go back, stay here with me.”  
“Mr La-Lan-landlord,”  
“Doesn’t like you, no, but your safety is my priority so I want you to stay here for a couple of days at least, just until that cunt gets the message that you’re not his to abuse and gets bored and moves on, okay? I don’t want you going back out until I know it’s safe,”  
“N-nothing, nothing about my l-li-life is s-safe,”  
“No, but let me make it safer for now?” Josh offered and Tyler said nothing, staring forwards numbly.

“I, I, I, uh, I reme-remembered the kn-knot this time, but, uh, but the s-string sna-snapped,” Tyler reached up and rubbed his sore-looking neck. It was a long way from his first attempt.

“You use string from a rag again?”   
“Shoe l-lace,”  
“Whose?” Josh saw that both of Tyler’s sneakers were still threaded.   
“St-stole from a, uh, a, a sleeping homeless g-guy,”  
“God obviously wasn’t very impressed, wasn’t feeling like granting that wish today, so you’re doomed to remain here to spend another day in the swamp with the rest of us,”

To most that might sound like a weird response to a suicide attempt but Tyler and Josh had done this routine far too many times to keep up the emotional engagement every time.

“Call me next time, yeah?”  
“Yeh,”

He wouldn’t.

“Try some of the hot chocolate for me? Lining your stomach might help settle your nerves.”  
“Feel ssick,”  
“Are you gonna vomit?” Josh checked but Tyler shook his head. “Give it a couple more minutes to cook then you can have some plain rice. I know that doesn’t sound the most appetising but it’ll give you some much needed calories without risking any upset to your system, then you can have a bath or whatever you need, hey?”

“Can, um, can I wash my, uh, my u-underwear in your sink? Or, or, or your b-bath? They, um, they’ve got blood on them, I, I think,”  
“From that guy?” He whispered and Tyler nodded heavily, not looking at him. “Are you still bleeding? Do you need me to do something?”  
“S’fine,”  
“It’s not fine, it’s really not fine bud,” Josh knew he couldn’t change anything but it didn’t stop him wishing otherwise.

“Why don’t you just throw all your clothes out and take some of my bits and pieces for yourself, rather than trying to scrub them clean. You’ve been wearing this same get up for months, a change is probably far overdue,”   
“Y-your stuff is yourss,”  
“I want to gift it to you,”  
“I’m n-not, I, I’m, I’m not a charity c-case,”  
“No, you’re my best friend who’s been wearing the same underpants for months and they’re now stained with blood, meanwhile I’ve got a dozen pairs next door and access to a laundry room. It’s not a big deal, please?”  
“You’re, you’re sure?”  
“Absolutely.”  
“Thanks J-Josh,”

It went quiet again except for the sound of the rice bubbling away in the kitchen.

“I know it’s been, um, it’s been shittier than usual since I’ve had to take up the second job and commit so much of my time to getting together the money for the wedding, but I set off for San Fran in a week, then in 2 weeks it’ll be over and I’ll be all yours again.”

“Are you gonna, um, will, will you quit your, a, uh, will, I’m, uh,”  
“I’m gonna quit the pot washing, so I’ll be back to working early mornings till lunch 5 days a week, and the afternoons and weekends can go back to you.”  
“And we can, we can hang out again?” Tyler sniffed.   
“Yeah we can hang out again, plus do jobs like going to the needle exchange and the sexual health clinic, and trying to get you clean,”   
“Oh,”

“Yanno, if you’re clean Ty, you could move in here with me,” Josh was sincere but could tell from Tyler’s blank yet pained expression that it meant nothing to him. Any offer that required him to be clean was locked off to him and he wasn’t willing or able to work for the key.

“You got aannyy blues?” He sniffed.   
“Valium? Lemme check,” Josh patted him on the shoulder as he stood up and headed to the bathroom.

He knew for sure that he definitely didn’t - even when he’d been a user, Valium hadn’t been his thing. Valium slowed everything down, including thoughts, and Josh had preferred to waste his money on things that made time pass faster, however in the 2 years since he’d been clean, he had found himself needing help with his anxiety and had tried quite a few different off the shelf things. Obviously Valium wasn’t one of those options but he hoped he had something else in his bathroom cabinet which might help Tyler feel settled.

He had a quick flick through the boxes - there weren’t a lot, he couldn’t keep Tylenol or Aspirin in there because Tyler liked to help himself in excessive doses, and other typical household medications like antihistamines and antacids were unnecessary pills to keep in an environment stalked by addicts, so it was easy enough to find the box he wanted. Kalms - a traditional herbal blend of Valerian and Hops which relieves temporary symptoms of stress.

It hadn’t worked for Josh and he doubt it would for Tyler, but his best friend found comfort in taking pills and this was the extent to which Josh was willing to facilitate that.

“Here ya go bud,” Josh slotted two pills into the palm of his shaking hand.   
“Y’blues aren’t blue,” Tyler knocked them back with hot chocolate regardless.   
“S’different kinda downer, try it, lemme see whether you like it or not,”

Knowing the rice was probably done, Josh didn’t sit down again but instead went through to the tiny kitchen and killed the heat, then drained the contents into a sieve over the sink. He grabbed two bowls from the cupboard, one slightly chipped, then filled them equally with the rice. Before going back to Tyler, he grabbed cutlery and the container of curry and balanced it all so he could go back to his front room.

“Ty? Bud?”

Tyler had curled forwards and hidden his face in his hands, and Josh could hear him sniffling back tears.

“Ty?”  
“Hurts,”  
“Do you want a hot bath? Try and relax your muscles?” Josh offered, putting their food on the coffee table and instead placing his hand on Tyler’s lower back. “Hot bath might be nice, hey?”  
“Oxy,”  
“I don’t got oxy, none of that, you know me Ty, I’m straight up now, but if the pain is really that bad then maybe we need to go get you checked out by the hospi-“  
“No!”

“What is it that’s hurting? Is it your neck? Or where he hit you? Or where he ripped you?” Josh tried to ask softly but Tyler just looked away, face crinkling up.

“Do you want me to look in my freezer? See if I’ve got anything you could use as ice?”  
“P-p-please,” he squeaked.   
“No worries,”  
“A-and a b-b-beer?”  
“I haven’t got any,”  
“P-please,”  
“I’m all out,”  
“P-pl-ple-ease!”  
“I don’t have any Tyler, sorry,” Josh couldn’t change the facts, instead going into his kitchen and digging into his tiny 35l freezer that was stacked on top of one of his cupboards.

There wasn’t room for much in there but he pulled out the pint of ice cream that had been half eaten a few weeks ago and the single hot pocket left from a multipack, then closed the door on the empty freezer. He grabbed a towel from the handle of the oven to wrap up the two frozen items with before returning to Tyler.

“Where hurts the most?”  
“E-e-every-w-where,” he was properly crying by that point.  
“Can I peel your shirt off? Look for bruising?”  
“E-every-w-wh-wh-ere,”  
“Alright Ty, alright, deep breaths buddy. You’re in pain, I hear you, and I’m really sorry about that. I wanna help, whether that’s with ice or a bath or even just feeding you some dinner and putting you to bed to rest, but y’need to lemme know how to help.”

Tyler sobbed into his hands, breath jaggedly heaving in and out as he fought to calm down. As much as Josh wanted him calm, he also recognised that Tyler had had a shitty day and breaking down was a far better way to cope with those feelings than the attempt on his life that he’d tried earlier or the drugs he almost always turned to.

“Let it all out, you’re safe, let it out,” he reassured him and Tyler took his hands off his face but instead twisted and looked to Josh, heartbreak etched into expression, and the older held his arms out, encouraging Tyler to curl up against him and accept a hug.

“I got you, you’re safe, just let it out,” Josh whispered against his greasy hair, unsure whether to stroke his back out of fear of causing him yet more pain. “You can stay with me, yeah? Whatever’s out there that’s scary, you don’t have to face it tonight. I got you.”

“I, I, I n-n-nee-need m-m-mo-money,”  
“For smack?” Josh wanted to make sure. “How many bags are you getting through a day right now?”  
“Um,” Tyler gulped, “s-s-six on a g-g-goo-good d-day, t-ten on a-a b-b-bad,”  
“That’s better than it was, hey? That’s way better, good for you Ty,” he remembered when it was in the high teens and the Narcan lived in his pocket rather than on the coffee table. “Still though, at $10 a pop you’re burning through money, so either you need to find a safer way to carry on doing the work you’re currently doing, or you need to find different work.”

He was fully aware of the fact that it wasn’t as easy as that. When it was him in need of cash, he didn’t turn to prostitution like Tyler but instead opted for theft. It had started with purses and coats that weren’t properly guarded by their owners, but as the addiction got stronger and the desperation grew, he turned to carjacking.

Taking cars through the threat of violence had been a genius money-making solution until the police dragged him in front of a judge who had given him 3 years for 3 counts. At 22 he was thrown in prison, but unlike Tyler he had done pretty well off the situation. There were more drugs inside than out so sourcing was no issue, and rather than paying with money, Josh paid with favours. Turned out that heroin stripped him of any conscience and he had no problem with jumping whoever the ringleaders needed jumping, even if it got him in trouble down the line. But Josh liked prison, he liked belonging to a group, liked the guaranteed bed and board, liked the structure, and he hadn’t been all that upset when he’d gone back in at 26 for another 6 months for larceny.

That was the old Josh though, the new Josh was a good law abiding citizen who’d taken on the disease of addiction and won, and was now guiding his best friend through the process too. He was a good person now, he was, he’d left that life behind him and was determined to guide Tyler out of it too, even though there were admittedly times when the light was harder than the dark.

“A p-pimp?” Tyler brought him back to the present.   
“Maybe, or, or just someone in the house to watch your back for a few dollars. I know it seems counterproductive to be giving away your money, but if you don’t get some kind of physical protection, you’re gonna keep getting hurt like this,”

Tyler sounded broken, utterly broken, and all Josh could do was sigh and hush.

“We’ll get you clean,”  
“Y-you w-wo-won’t,”  
“We will Tyler, that’s my promise to you. It has been since we met, hasn’t it?”  
“A-and h-h-here I a-a-am,”  
“You’re down to 6 bags a day, that’s progre-“  
“O-on a g-g-good d-day! I h-haven’t had a g-g-good day in w-we-eeks!”  
“So what, you’re averaging about 10?”  
“A-at l-least.” Tyler hiccuped and Josh knew he was understating.

“Still, we can get you clean. Gimme two weeks to be done with Ashley’s wedding then all my focus will be on you, and-“  
“W-what if I c-ca-can’t l-last 2 m-more we-weeks??”  
“You can bud, I know you can. You’ve done so well with me working the second job, it’s only a little bit longer-“  
“I’m g-gonna d-do i-it,”  
“Do what?”  
“K-kill m-my-se-self,”  
“No Tyler, I know that guy treated you like shit today, I know you were scared, I know you’re tired of being scared, but-“  
“But n-n-noth-thing! No! N-no more!”

Josh gently kissed the top of Tyler’s head. A small part of him wondered whether it was another attempt to manipulate him into abandoning Ashley’s wedding, but the rope burn on his neck was convincing.

“I know you’re gonna get mad at me for saying it, but if you let me admit-“  
“N-n-not g-going to r-rehab. Y-you d-don’t g-get it J-Josh, I c-ca-can’t be reh-habilita-ated,”  
“I thought the same. I was on 20 bags a day at my worst, carjacking to fund it, spent 3 and a half years inside, hurt people to-“  
“I-I’m n-n-not y-you!”  
“No, you’re so much better than me Tyler, you n-“  
“I’M NOT YOU!!”

It was midnight and his neighbours were from Hell, but Josh didn’t care how loud they were being in that moment.

“Let me help you Ty, please. We’ll do a lock in, then you can move in with me, and you and me together, we’ll go places, hey?”  
“W-we’re j-ju-junkies, wh-what w-will we e-ever ach-achieve?”  
“What does anybody ever really achieve ultimately?? That’s not what life is about Ty, it’s about-“   
“S-su-suffering!”  
“No, it’s about enjoying the-“  
“Y-y-you’re e-en-enjoying l-life?!”  
“I’m,” Josh paused to think about it, “I’m putting in the work now so that later down the line I’ll be able to enjoy my life. I’m working on healing my relationships with my family, and I’m working to earn the money I’ll need to live more comfortably, and I’m working on helping you get to a more stable place so you’ll be able to be there with me to-“

“It’s b-bullsh-shit, i-it, it’s, it’s a-all bullshit!”  
“A lotta life is a lotta bullshit, yeah, but you’ve only seen the rough side of it. Don’t tap out now, not before you’ve given the brighter side a shot,”  
“I d-don’t th-thi-ink I’ll e-ever get th-there,”  
“You definitely won’t if you give up now,”

“I’m gonna run you a bath, okay? I know it won’t fix anything, I’m not deluded, but it’s gonna help you calm down and that’s what we need to focus on in the near future. Try drinking your hot chocolate, and if you think your stomach can take it then eat some curry, then I’ll help you bathe and get you some fresh clothes to sleep in, yeah? Then tomorrow’s Saturday meaning I don’t have to rush off because it’s my day off from the gas station, so we’ve got until 2pm together to make sure you’re safe. I got you covered, yeah?”  
“O-o-okay,”

Out of habit more than anything, Josh woke up in the early hours of the morning. His apartment building was quiet for a change and he couldn’t hear the usual hum of city life through his thin walls, and it was blissful. Nothing quite compared to the silence of an early start.

But then Josh realised that Tyler had fallen asleep next to him, and now he was alone.

Recalling the suicidal thoughts he’d been having, Josh jolted upright and sprinted out of the bedroom, first checking the front room but then running straight on through to the bathroom when he found it empty. His best friend wasn’t in there, not puking up his guts like he so often was, and he hadn’t taken a shower either.

“Tyler??”

Heart beginning to panic, Josh rushed back across the tiny apartment, looking for any clues as to where Tyler might have gone in such a hurry. Remembering he had offered to wash his clothes for him, Josh wondered whether maybe his friend had gone downstairs to the bottom floor of the building to get in the laundry room himself, but first Josh wanted to check the kitchen, and that was when he saw it.

“No no no, no, no,”

The cupboards had been flung open and he could see clear as day that his lock box was missing.

“No no no no,”

$1,182, gone.

Months of work, gone.

Trust in his best friend, gone.

“Fuck sake! No! No!” Josh climbed up onto the counter to make sure, shaking hands sifting around desperately, but the box had definitely been stolen and all he could do was throw a plate on the floor in frustrated anger.

He had worked so hard, so fucking hard, and Tyler had destroyed it all in a single moment.

Knowing it was unlikely that the money hadn’t been transferred to a dealer’s pocket already, Josh knew it wasn’t worth trying to get it back. He could sprint across Columbus and break down the door to Tyler’s crackhouse and beg him for the money back, but it was pointless. Just like that, it was all gone.

Without even realising it, Josh had started to cry. They were tears of exhaustion more than anything; he wasn’t even that surprised, when he was on skag he stole every single dollar he could get his hands on, it was inevitable that Tyler’s strength would crumble to the desperation of addiction and steal from him, but still his chest ached with betrayal.

He’d worked so fucking hard.

The money wasn’t just money, it was the hope of a whole new chapter in his life. After everything he’d gone through, everything he’d survived, finally he was at the point where things could begin to go back to normal, and now it was all jeopardised.

What was he supposed to do? What could he do? Surely there was nothing to be done. If there was a quick but legal way for someone like him to make over a grand in a week then everybody would be doing it - it was hopeless.

As much as he liked to pretend he had friends, Tyler was his only one. The ‘brothers for life’ he had made in prison dropped him the moment they could, the other guys at the gas station and the kitchen all ignored him or threw stuff at his head, everyone in his building would sooner deliver the final blow than help him out. He had no one but the guy who stole everything from him. Ashley’s wedding was supposed to change that, to begin a dialogue with his siblings again, to finally have a family of his own to turn to on days like this when everything was falling down around him, and he could feel it slipping through his fingers all over again.

Josh slammed the cabinet door on the money-less shelves but the anger was too much for the hinge and it broke off, first landing on the counter but then falling to the ground alongside the smashed plate with a crash, and he didn’t give a damn. Instead he just hid his face in his hands and whimpered pathetically.

  
“Joshua? What are you doing here??” Mom finally opened her front door to find him crouched in a ball on her steps.

He didn’t have the heart to knock and wake her so instead he’d been waiting for the moment she would leave her house, and after 2 or 3 hours it had finally happened.

“Can I talk to you? Please?” He stood up as fast and as straight as he could, hands crossed behind his back.   
“I’m going over to Jordan’s place to help him clean up after a party he had last night - you’ll have to wait.”  
“I’ll be quick, please, sorry, I just, I, I, please Mom, I need to talk to you,”

“Don’t you have that addiction coach you can talk to?” She didn’t hesitate, continuing to lock her door behind her.   
“No, they, um, he, he stopped working with me, but this isn’t about drugs, please?”  
“Why did he stop working with you? Did you do your usual thing and act like you knew better? Because your arrogance puts people off Joshua,”   
“No, he discharged me from his services after 18 months clean because I’m doing so well actually Mom,”  
“Don’t be a smartass with me kiddo,” she just sighed and walked down her steps, him following right behind.

“Sorry, please, please, I just need to talk to you for like 2 minu-“  
“What about all the times I tried to talk to you to check in after you ran away, and you avoided me?? Hey?” Mom liked to pretend she was looking for Josh after she kicked him out, but they both knew that wasn’t true.

“Please, it’s about Ashley’s wedding.” That caught her attention and she froze on the spot.   
“The fuck did you do?!”  
“Nothing, nothing, I just-“  
“I swear to God if you and your inability to control yourself has ruined her special day then I’ll never forgive you!”

Josh paused and gulped shakily.

“I need a loan.”

Mom exhaled through her nostrils sharply then walked straight past him, heading towards her car without another word.

“Please, I had the money, I did, I saved up about twelve hundred dollars but it got stolen and I-“  
“Are you seriously about to fucking cry crocodile tears over a theft?? You?! Joshua you stole from hundreds of people-“  
“Not hundreds-“  
“You held them at gun point, you traumatised them for the rest of their lives, you stole their cars, their livelihoods, their sense of safety, and you’re about to pull out your violin and sell me some sob story about twelve hundred dollars? Boo fucking hoo Joshua, boo fucking hoo.”

“I know what I did was wrong.” Josh couldn’t hold back the tears as he stood in front of her, stopping her from leaving as best he could. “I know I was a bad person, but I paid my price-“  
“3 years in jail doesn’t even begin to pay for what you did to those poor people Joshua. I read the article in the paper after you got sentenced - you know one of those people you stuck up with a gun was a pregnant mom of 3 with her 18 month old in the backseat, right??”  
“I let her take the baby-“  
“You let her take the baby with a gun to her head before stealing her car and stopping her being able to collect her 2 little boys from school. Repent all you want, God knows you’re an evil evil boy.”

Josh wanted to vomit but forced himself to keep his chin up.

“I changed.”  
“You don’t believe that so why do you expect me to?”  
“I changed.”  
“Liar.”  
“I changed.”  
“You’ll never change. You’ll always be a disgrace in my eyes.”

“I, um, I bought the Le Creuset giftset already, and I pai-“  
“I don’t give a damn.”  
“I paid a deposit on my suit and hotel room, but I-“  
“Listen to me Joshua: I do not want to hear your shitty excuses for letting your sister down again. Too many times, okay?! Enough!”  
“Mom please! Please!! I’ll pay you back, I’ll pay you back with interest, I’ll pay you back double what you loan me, just please! Please! Please, I need your help, please,”

“You are 30 years old. If you seriously are incapable of saving up a few hundred dollars with 3 months notice then you are despicable and I’m ashamed to have you as my son. The last thing I would ever dream of doing is funding you to come and embarrass us in front of everybody your sister loves, so dismiss the idea that I’m going to help you - you’re done, you blew it, get out of my sight.”

“Please Mom, please, it’s not my fault,” Josh begged, tears dripping off his jaw.   
“What part of this is not your fault? The fact you got robbed? Well no shit, that’s what happens when you associate yourself with criminals. Or that you’ve got no savings? Yep, an existence wasted on drugs will do that to you. And the whole point that you’re having to earn your sister’s love back through hard work? That’s on you for jumping ship when she was just a little girl Joshua. Don’t look my way for sympathy when this mess is self-induced.”

“S’not my fault,”  
“It’s all your fault,”  
“Not my fault,”  
“It’s entirely your own fault.”  
“Not my fault!” He wept hysterically. “You kn-know he t-touched me M-Mom, y-you kn-know h-he mo-molested me, J-Jerr-“  
“You leave my husband’s name out of your mouth you hateful shit! Jerry has been nothin but a loving step father to you and until you learn some respect, you stay the hell away from this family, got it?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 to go...
> 
> Maisie


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wedding has finally arrived and so begins the demise of dear Joshie

Josh hadn’t slept since Wyoming.

As soon as he got on the Greyhound in Columbus, he’d collapsed into his seat and passed out for a full rotation of the earth and the passing of 5 state lines. It had been the longest he’d slept in his whole entire life, but he didn’t wake up feeling rested. Instead he woke up in a cold sweat, and ever since then he’d been tired but wired, unable to switch off in spite of the exhaustion that had accumulated from constantly pushing himself to the edge.

He hadn’t heard from Tyler since he stole everything from him, but it was probably best that way. Josh hadn’t been coping too well and if his best friend had shown his face, he would’ve likely caught the rough end of things and he didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to be swept up in the spiral that Josh had somehow fallen down.

It scared him just how quick things could get bad again.

Within minutes of Jerry’s name leaving his lips and his mother climbing in her car and driving away, Josh had his first flashback in months. It was quickly followed by a panic attack, and to stop himself from slipping into another, he had sprinted back across Columbus to the shitty area that he called home. Once in his apartment, he lifted up the floorboard in his bedroom, dug out his hidden switchblade for protection, then barricaded himself into his room and cried for hours.

Previously he’d told himself that he was never gonna let Jerry reduce him to that state again, but in reality he was helpless to stop it. The really severe flashbacks had been held off for years by the heroin, however with sobriety came the need to process trauma, something he’d been avoiding at all costs, so when the memories started coming in, they came in thick and fast.

Jerry was not a good man and he had done bad things to Josh, things that he had been too young to understand were wrong until it was too late. He’d started dating his mom when Josh was just 12 years old and didn’t even wait until he moved in before starting to abuse him. By 13, Josh had gone from bubbly to shy according to his teacher, and by 14 he was mute beyond his family. 15 was the year he started cutting himself, then 16 was when the anger started, and at 17 he found drugs.

His mom knew. She pretended she didn’t, but he knew she knew. She’d walked by the door and heard him crying as Jerry moaned too many times for it to be convincing that she didn’t. She knew and she let it happen.

Beyond his mom, nobody else but Jerry knew what had been done to him. He didn’t use it as an excuse or a rationalisation or an explanation, not ever. It wasn’t raised by his lawyers in an attempt to get leniency. It wasn’t told to Tyler in some best friend confession session. It wasn’t explained to his siblings as the reason he’d abandoned them. It was his little secret that festered in his soul.

Sometimes he beat himself up, quite literally, as he imagined his siblings being subjected to the torture that he had previously absorbed for them. He knew Jerry preferred little boys, he just hoped and prayed that Jordan had been able to protect himself somehow. Deep down Josh knew that, by being a coward and escaping, he’d doomed his little brother to the same fate, but when he let those thoughts occupy his mind, all of a sudden he couldn’t breathe anymore.

Part of the reason he was going to San Francisco was to try and talk to his brother, make sure his world wasn’t haunted too.

Getting to San Fran was still hellish expensive, however once the switch knife had returned to Josh’s hand, all of a sudden it was so simple to fall back on methods tried and tested.

He hated the fact that it really wasn’t difficult at all for him to step out onto the street, blade in tow, and hold woman after frightened woman up against a wall until she surrendered her purse and scurried off. Their cries should have tugged on some distant heart string but Josh felt nothing. He felt nothing as he collected dollar after dollar, drawing blood occasionally as he traced an intimidatory warning against their cheeks, but usually managing to take the cash without a wound.

Aggravated robbery with a deadly weapon carried some serious time and Josh had to stick-up about 10 women over 3 days in order to raise the amount he needed. 10 more victims to add to the list, yet still Josh didn’t feel guilty. Instead he found himself too busy considering society’s over reliance on cards over cash and how that made the business much less efficient, but scolded himself for being some kind of sociopath.

How could he stick knives to the necks of young women in back alleys and feel nothing?

That coldness couldn’t be because of Jerry, that was all on Josh - maybe his mother was right, maybe he was an evil evil boy. But nevertheless he was an evil boy who’d got his hands on $2000 without alarming the police, and was on his way towards Ashley’s wedding at long last.

  
“...and if you have any questions or requests, this desk is manned 24 hours a day for your convenience, or dial 4 on the handset in your room.”  
“Okay,”  
“I hope you enjoy your stay with us Mr Dun,”  
“Thanks,” Josh forced a smile at the bald man behind the desk, then headed towards the elevator that he had directed him to with nothing but his room key in his hands and his wallet and blade in his back pocket.

He supposed the service provided by the bell-boy was widely regarded to be a luxury, but in reality he felt unsafe being separated from his belongings. The black duffel bag from Target was probably a little different from the Louis Vuitton and Bottega Veneta luggage sets that they were used to handling, and it contained arguably the most valuable objects in his life - his wedding gift and his suit. Even though he knew it was the staff’s job to transport precious possessions all day every day, he’d feel much better carrying them himself.

“Which floor do you require sir?”  
“Me? Uh, 7?” Josh wasn’t expecting there to be another member of the hotel staff stood inside the elevator, dressed in a suit with his name on a pin.   
“Certainly,”

The suited man pressed the button next to the number which lit up with a pleasant yellow-toned light, and the doors closed. A gentle music played in the background but Josh was super aware of the uncomfortable silence between them.

“I, um, does, excuse me, does this hotel have a smoking terrace?”  
“All our rooms have balconies equipped with ash trays for your convenience sir, or for a social smoking area I can recommend the designated zone in our outside bar on the ground floor.”  
“Thanks,” Josh gave up smoking the same time as he gave up all the other drugs he’d been pumping into his system for years, but it was the first thing his mind came up with whilst searching for a conversation starter.

“Floor 7. Would you like my assistance with locating your room?”   
“703?” He looked at the scribble on the fancy little packet that his keycard came in.   
“On your left,” the attendant had a fake smile too as the doors opened.   
“Got it, thanks,” Josh nodded then dipped out.

He didn’t belong in such a fancy hotel, not at all. The corridor was wider than any room in his apartment and the carpet was so plush that he could feel the softness through his sneakers. Even the corridor was nicer than his apartment, and when Josh pressed the room key to the lock on his door, he couldn’t resist a small gasp at the beauty of the room.

With all the money taken from the women who made the mistake of coming down the back alleys of Columbus at night, Josh could afford an upgrade. Respecting Ashley’s wishes, he hadn’t booked into the same hotel as the rest of his family, but he was staying in a much more respectable location than the dump he had originally scouted.

His bag had already been placed into the room for him, and he immediately gravitated towards the piece of paper and wrapped box that was on the desk that was pushed against the warm leather wall.

Dear Mr Dun,

On behalf of everyone here at Clarion, we sincerely hope you enjoy your stay in San Francisco. To get your trip off to the best start, please enjoy complimentary dark chocolate dipped strawberries and champagne on us,

Clarion

Josh hadn’t noticed any champagne and looked up to find a tiny bottle, probably a supposed single portion size, sat just a few inches away from the boxed strawberries. He didn’t know whether all fancy hotels always gave away free stuff like that or whether he was receiving some kind of special treatment, but either way Josh had to take a deep breath and remind himself that now was the worst time to fall back on alcohol.

He stood by the fact he wasn’t an alcoholic, however that didn’t mean he had a healthy relationship with the stuff. An addict had the tendency to, shock horror, get addicted, and the last thing he wanted was to take a sip of the champagne and suddenly get a taste for it, and ruin the wedding by turning up trashed. Flexing what little self control he had, Josh picked up the bottle and put it in the mini fridge, alongside all the other tiny booze bottles, then closed the fridge door and swore to himself that he wouldn’t open it again.

Instead he took his mind off the temptation by exploring his room more.

The main space was a huge bedroom, fitted with a king size bed that had fluffy white pillows and sheets of some unknown luxury fabric, opposed to the towels that Josh often slept on and under at home when Tyler was by his side and sweating profusely. Even though it looked incredibly comfortable, Josh knew he wouldn’t be able to relax in it like he could at home. He would be too scared about ruining the precious cotton to be able to switch off, so sleep seemed unlikely, but nonetheless he could appreciate the impressiveness of the bed.

Opposite the bed was a ridiculous 65”4k TV, which was something Josh genuinely was excited by. He didn’t have a TV of his own so, other than the shitty communal one in rehab, it would be his first time watching on anything other than his shitty laptop since he’d been thrown out as a teen.

Otherwise the bedroom contained abstract art installations that he didn’t understand and a huge ceiling to floor glass french door that allowed natural light to flood in, but also opened up onto the surprisingly big balcony, which was fitted with furniture of its own.

The bathroom was almost entirely Crema Bella marble with a huge stand alone bath tub plus a bonus shower hidden behind frosted glass, and a mirror with glamour lights that perfectly illuminated for Josh to see just how shit he looked. His hair was a greasy and there was visible dandruff standing out from the dark colour, and bags were carved deep under his tired eyes. The bus journey had not been kind to him, but neither had the past 2 decades.

With a heavy sigh, Josh went back to the bedroom and perched on the little Barcelona bench at the foot of the bed, beginning to unpack his duffel bag.

It was gonna be a long couple of days and already he felt so uncomfortable in his skin.

He didn’t deserve to be there.

He didn’t deserve the nice hotel room, he’d paid for it with dirty money.

He didn’t deserve to be around such fancy people, he was a fraud with a knife in his back pocket and tract scars littering his arms.

He also didn’t deserve to feel so scared about seeing his family for the first time. He didn’t deserve their hatred. He didn’t deserve their prejudice. He didn’t deserve their mistreatment, and he most definitely didn’t deserve their abuse.

With hesitant shakes, Josh pulled out his suit straight from the rental company’s protective paper cover and hung it up on a hook on the wall and tried to imagine himself wearing it the next day. After all these months, all the struggle, all the heartbreak, the wedding was finally just hours away and he couldn’t breathe.

Knowing full well his mother would be cruel, Josh hadn’t contacted her to update her that he’d arrived in San Francisco, but that left him in a bit of a pickle. He’d never been to a wedding before and he didn’t really know how they worked. He had an invite written on a posh piece of paper that told him to be at the venue for 1.15pm so that the ceremony could begin at 2, but he felt like there should be something before that.

Presumably Ashley would be getting ready with her bridesmaids someplace, and he guessed he wasn’t invited to that intimate process, but surely the first time she’d see him in 13 years wouldn’t be when she walked up the aisle? That moment was supposed to be between her and her fiancé, not interrupted by Josh catching her attention as she walked past him?? He didn’t know. He also didn’t know whether there was going to be some kind of family prayer service beforehand, or a bachelor’s send off for Andrew, or a drinks reception for guests - he really didn’t know.

Josh’s solution was to put on his suit, tie up his laces, fold and place his pocket square, and head down to the venue with his invite in hand at 10am. He knew full well that he might be incredibly early, but he’d prefer that to incredibly late, and he needed to get out of his oppressively fancy room anyway.

Luckily outside the hotel where his family were staying and the wedding was happening was a sweet pedestrianised area that contained a bench that Josh could sit on and try to relax. It wasn’t particularly relaxing though, it was hot and bright and he wanted sunglasses and was desperate not to sweat through his crisp shirt but couldn’t risk the attention that rolling his sleeves up brought, plus he was constantly on the verge of having a panic attack.

This was real. This was fucking happening.

Just as his anxiety started ramping itself up again, Josh saw a guy carrying 8 coffee cops in two cardboard carry out trays, sunglasses on, whistling casually, and quickly recognised him.

“Hi,” Josh called out, not knowing how else to initiate a conversation.   
“Hey there, you here for the wedding? You’re a tad early bud, bet Drew told you the wrong time didn’t he? He messed with Jake too,” Jordan had a genuine smile on his face, but clearly hadn’t linked the dots yet.   
“No no, I’m, uh, I’m in the bride’s party, well, I’m, I’m family I guess?”  
“Oh shit,” it dawned on him and he took a step back from the bench.

Neither of them said anything, both staring at each other, Josh’s heart pounding in his ears.

“Josh, right? You’re Josh?”   
“S’me,”  
“Oh shit bro, fuucckk, I mean literally bro! You’re my big brother! Jesus Christ! Sorry, I thought you weren’t coming??”  
“I came, course I did, it’s my little sister’s wedding,”  
“Mom said you went back to jail??”  
“Mom what? No, no, I, no,”  
“So you didn’t go to jail?”  
“No, well I did technically but years ago, not recently, not that would stop me coming, I’ve been keeping out of trouble for a while now,” Josh almost told the truth, omitting the method he had no choice but to use in order to fundraise for the expenses.

“Can you gimme like 2 minutes?”  
“2 minutes? Uh, sure, yeah,”  
“Just need to take these coffees up to the groomsmen but I’ll be straight back down and we can properly catch up,”  
“O-okay, I’ll just, I’ll wait here?”   
“2 minutes,” Jordan reassured him whilst walking towards the entrance of the hotel with his hands full.

Only once his brother was entirely out of sight did Josh allow himself to freak the fuck out. Not giving a shit what anybody around him thought, he covered his face with both his hands and screamed out his nervous energy, then stood up and jumped up and down a few times, crossing his arms over the top of his head once he started pacing.

That grown man had been his little brother. That was his little brother. That was Jordan.

He didn’t know whether he was excited or terrified, something was building up in his chest and he didn’t know whether he was about to crack a grin or collapse into a flashback, and in many ways it was so totally overwhelming that he wanted to sprint as far and as fast as he could, but he knew that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair on Jordan to lose him again, however it also wasn’t fair on Josh if he denied himself the opportunity to put right what he had done wrong all those years ago.

This was it, the conversation that he’d been imagining for years, and all of a sudden Josh blanked on all those rehearsed lines - what was he supposed to say? What did he want to say? What did he need to say?? He knew there was a hell of a lot to say but he couldn’t think of a single place to start, and he was panicking.

“Do you want me to run back to the coffee shop and pick you one up too? It’s only right round the corner?” Jordan returned, this time only carrying his own cup.   
“Oh, uh, no thanks, I, I cut caffeine out, thanks though,”  
“Sure you don’t want anything? They had herbal teas or something different if you do?”   
“Honest, I’m, uh, no, I’m really okay, thanks again though,”  
“Well I hope you don’t mind me slurping away whilst we talk? The boys all went out last night to commemorate Drew’s last night of freedom and I’m feeling a bit worse for wear,”  
“Yeh no course not, that’s, that’s fine,”

“Can I get a hug then?”  
“Sure,” Josh’s voice was strangled by his fear but nonetheless Jordan put his coffee down on the ground and held his arms out, encompassing Josh with a firm grip.

Josh didn’t get hugged a lot. Sometimes Tyler would cuddle up against him but it wasn’t the same as the nurturing strength that came from Jordan. The hug was fuelled by something powerful and that made it special.

“You got so big,”  
“I was 12 when you left, don’t even think my balls had dropped yet,” Jordan sniggered as he released him, then sat down on the bench, providing an example for Josh to follow. As he sat, he could feel the knife in his back pocket as a lump under his butt and it gave him the smallest boost in confidence, even though he knew it shouldn’t.

“So,”  
“So,”  
“How are you? I guess that’s as good a place as any to start?”  
“I’m good, yeah, I’m doing good,”  
“Clean?”  
“Clean, dry, sober, haven’t touched anything since I got out of rehab 2 years ago, no relapses at all. No heroin, no ket, no pills, no booze, no smoking, no nothing. You name it, I’m off it,”  
“Oh wow - including cutting?”  
“Yep, clean long-term from all self harm, I don’t really keep track of dates or whatever but we’re talking years,”   
“Wow Josh, good for you, well done, that’s, that’s amazing,”  
“Thanks,” he smiled meekly.   
“Planning on keeping it that way?”  
“Definitely. Never going back.”  
“I’m so proud of brother, really, that’s awesome,”  
“Thanks,”

“Are you able to work? Or just focusing on you right now?”  
“Nah gotta keep a roof over my head somehow. I know I shouldn’t complain but it’s tough finding work; I’m a high school dropout with a drug history and criminal record, so I’m never gonna work anyplace nice, but I’ve got shifts at a gas station and at a kitchen as a potwasher. Ain’t glamorous but it fills the time,”  
“Are you gonna try and get some qualifications? Go to community college or night school or whatever?”  
“Maybe, hopefully, I’m not sure. Recently my focus has been on getting here, but once we’re back in Ohio I’ll have to find a new goal and that might just be it,”  
“You’re smart, you’d do great,”  
“Thanks Jord,”

“How about you? Doing okay?”  
“Life’s treating me well for the most part, yeah. I took a gap year in South America then came back for college and graduated last year, and went straight into a really good job. Means I can afford a sweet place, I’m living with my girlfriend, we’ve got a dog together, hoping to propose to her at some point this year, maybe at Christmas, yeah, it’s all going well,”  
“Gah, I’ve got so many questions!” Josh was genuinely so intrigued - Mom never told him anything about any of his siblings.   
“Guess there’s a lot to catch up on when you skip out on someone for half their life,” Jordan sighed, sipping his coffee, sounding rightly bitter, which was an unexpected and yet expected shift in tone.

“I really am sorry,” Josh began. “I know that doesn’t even begin to make up for the worry and heartache I’ve caused you all over the years, and I’ve got a long long way to go before I even dream of you forgiving me, but even if it doesn’t mean anything yet, I am truly sorry.”

“Why did Mom tell us you’d gone to jail last week?”  
“Um, I, I, uh,” he paused to think about it. “I had to work really hard to raise the money to pay for the hotel and the greyhound and everything, then last week somebody stole everything I’d saved. I went to Mom and asked for a loan but she wasn’t able to offer anything, so it seemed like maybe I wouldn’t be able to make it. I guess she thought jail might be easier for you guys to deal with than a lack of money because that just sounds like a shitty excuse whereas jail there’s nothing I could’ve done to be here so there’s no element of me not trying hard enough to get to you, I, I dunno. Maybe she thought you’d be less hurt. You’d have to ask her to really know. But either way, a friend of mine loaned me the money and it’s all fine now,”

“What was jail like?” Jordan asked.   
“Honestly? Not that bad,”  
“What were you in for again?”  
“3 years on a plea deal for multiple car jackings, bounced back for probation violation for another 30 days, then 6 months for larceny,”   
“So stealing?”  
“Yeh,”

“Were you in a gang? Are you in a gang?”  
“No, I, uh, I, I had to roll with some gangbangers when I was in for my long stint, just for protection, but-“  
“Couldn’t you just keep your head down?”  
“For 3 years?”   
“Yeah, stay outta their way, keep to yourself,” Jordan argued naively.  
“There’s no keeping to yourself in a 6 by 8 cell with another man sleeping in the bunk above you,”  
“But gangbangers Josh?? Stealing’s one thing, but gangs? I know your judgment has been messed up in the past but surely even you could see that’s too much.”  
“Either it was side with them or have me be their enemy, and you know what happens to the opposers of gangs in prison? They’re marked. That shit ain’t just in the movies, my first week I was withdrawing and sick, real sick, and they beat me so bad I couldn’t see out my right eye or open my jaw. The minute I was back from the infirmary, my celly shivved me,” Josh pulled his shirt out of his pants to reveal the purple scar left of his right hip. “Didn’t puncture any organs but part of the plastic snapped off inside me, and that was only on my third day. By my fifth day they’d-“  
“Enough,” his brother raised a hand and waved him off.

“Sorry, sorry, I got carried away,” Josh composed himself again, tucking his shirt back in. “I didn’t want to be in a gang, I tried real hard to avoid joining a crew, but it would’ve killed me if I kept resisting Jordan. I was a kid and having withdrawals and couldn’t fight, I was no match for these guys - I had no choice, really, I didn’t. Once I agreed to be a part of it, things got better, it got easier,”  
“Got better how?”  
“They stopped beating me, stopped taking all my food, watched my back when I was in the shower, got me in good with the bent guards, gave me dope,”  
“Dope? You could smoke weed inside?”  
“Heroin.”   
“Oh,”

“If I hadn’t joined, I’d be dead right now.”  
“If you were so weak that you couldn’t hold out on your own, why did they let you join? Why did they want you?”  
“Are you asking if I was their bitch?”   
“Well, were you?”  
“No!” Josh scoffed. “Because they knew I needed their drugs, they could manipulate me into doing their bidding, whether it was jumping people or distracting guards or smuggling things across the pods. Whatever it was they needed doing, I’d do it, but no, I wasn’t their sex slave thank you very much,”

“You know you’re the first Dun to ever go to prison, right?”  
“Finally found my claim to fame - family disappointment,” he sighed deeply. “I was 22, I’m 30 now, I’m a different person from who I was inside.”  
“22 when you first went in.”  
“26 when I came out for the last time. That’s still 4 years Jordan, that’s still time to change.”  
“You’re 4 years clean then I take it?”  
“2 years.”  
“So it obviously didn’t change you that much,”

Josh was starting to feel attacked by his little brother and his instinct was to flare back at him, but instead he took a deep breath.

“I’ve seen the error of my ways. I no longer partake in criminal activity, I do not associate with any gang members, I haven’t taken any drugs in 2 years, and I am incredibly remorseful for everybody I’ve hurt during those dark times.”  
“Oh yeah, you sound sooo remorseful, not like that was scripted by your lawyer or nothing.”

“When I was doing my larceny time, the court ordered I take a victim empathy class at the prison. They made me do all these worksheets and tasks to make me really think about what I was doing to other people. It made me feel fucking horrible and-“  
“That’s because you did fucking horrible things Josh. You wanna know what’s worse?? Feeling fucking horrible when you didn’t even do anything wrong - I woke up every single day for years feeling fucking horrible because my big brother ran away to be a crackhead-“  
“I never did crack.”  
“Oh shut up!! My big brother ran away to be a junkie and I was left with a family torn apart!”

“I’m sorry,”  
“No you’re not.”  
“I am,”  
“You’re not!”

Josh could feel himself getting angry. At rehab they taught him that anger was his response to getting hurt, and he knew he was only trying to cover up the fact that he was on the verge of tears, but still he couldn’t calm himself down.

Suddenly Jordan’s phone started ringing and he pulled it out and Josh could see clear as day that the caller ID was Dad.

Dad??

Their parents had got divorced just a few months after Abigail was born, when Josh was 10 years old. The man disappeared almost over night and nobody had seen him since, except now all of a sudden Jordan was picking up the phone to him without hesitation.

“Hi,” Jordan stood up. “Yeh no we’re still downstairs. No. Oh just a bunch of lame excuses, as we expected. Nope. Um, yeh, that’s be nice, do you mind? Thanks Dad, see you in 2, bye,”

“Are you gonna go inside?” Josh looked at the ground.   
“Not yet, he’s coming here first, gonna gimme me some moral support.”  
“K,” he sighed, playing with his thumbnail. “I, I’m, uh, I’m sorry if this isn’t what you imagined, I’m sorry if I'm underwhelming you, I’m sorry if it all sounds like a bunch of excuses.”  
“Yeh it kinda does,”  
“I’m trying to be honest, to answer your questions, I’m sorry. If there’s something different I can do then let me know and I’ll try?”

“I, it’s just hard, I wanna be really proud of you for getting clean and holding down two jobs and everything, cos I get that’s impressive, but I’m not done being mad at you yet I don’t think. It’s like I’ve got 13 years of emotions to try and work through in one conversation and it’s a lot,” Jordan avoided eye contact too.

“I get if you need time. I did an awful thing to you and Ashley and Abigail, and you all need time to process the strain of having a drug addict as a big brother, but maybe once you understand why, you’ll be able to one day forgive me?”   
“Is there a why? Is there an explanation? Because we don’t know it. To us, you walked off this cliff yourself.”

Josh was about to begin explaining what he’d been ashamed to vocalise for so long, when out of the corner of his eye, to his complete disbelief and visceral terror, he saw an all too familiar silhouette.

That was the silhouette that loomed in his doorway each evening.

That was the silhouette that towered over him as he scrambled backwards towards the wall.

That was the silhouette that was burned into his eyelids as he had nothing else to watch, nowhere else to look, whilst the act was being performed.

“Dad,” Jordan rose to his feet again as Jerry approached and the pair embraced one another, and Josh couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe.   
“Hey kiddo, you doing okay?” Jerry brushed Jordan’s hair out of his face with a small laugh.

“Oh wow, Joshua, my boy! Haven’t you grown up so fast! I barely recognised you, my golly!”  
“You stay the FUCK AWAY FROM ME!” Josh panicked as the pedophile looked in his direction and before he even knew it, he was on his feet with his blade drawn.

“Jesus Christ Josh!! You’ve got a fucking knife?! What the fuck!!” Jordan gasped horrified.   
“Woah there son, don’t be scared, you’re okay, Dad’s got you,” Jerry put his arm around Jordan as the younger tried to escape backwards, away from the weapon, and Josh could actually feel the vomit in the back of his mouth.

“Let. Go. Of my brother!” Josh trembled with anger and terror, growling at Jerry.   
“Drop the fucking knife!” Jordan cried back at him.   
“Stay the fuck away from him! Don’t fucking touch him! I swear to God I’m gonna fucking slash you if you don’t get the hell away from him you cunt,” Josh couldn’t take the old man’s hand on Jordan’s waist for a moment longer, so surged at him boldly, intentionally missing but making the pair jump, forcing them apart.

“Jordan, get behind me.” Josh instructed protectively, needing to stop the man from hurting him anymore.   
“I’m going nowhere near you!! Dad, call the police, call them now!”  
“Hey now, there’s no need for that, is there Joshie?” Jerry always called him Joshie as he touched him, whispering for Joshie to be quiet so nobody would wake up, telling Joshie to relax, commanding Joshie to smile.

Before he had even fully snapped out of the memory, Josh lunged forwards, driving his right hand downwards, aiming for the neck. He wanted a quick strike. Something stopped the swing though, a tackle by Jordan.

Jordan aimed for Josh’s knife hand, grabbing his wrist with both hands and wrestling him down with a twist, but Josh was good with a blade and turned his body the other way, using his brother’s weight to his advantage as he dipped him over his shoulder and rolled the opposite direction. Jordan fell to the ground and the path to Jerry was clear, but a glint of red stopped him in tracks.

“You fucking bastard! You cut me! Fuck you!” Jordan cried out in pain and Jerry fell to the floor next to him, cradling him.   
“Lemme see brave boy, you’re okay, let Dad see,”

Josh only had to see the beginnings of a slow trickle of blood before he sprinted away as fast as he fucking could.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Later that day...

Finding Jerry’s room had been easy.

As the whole wedding party had consumed the hotel, it didn’t take a particularly elaborate story to convince the lady at reception to give up the number. All he’d said was that the bride’s father had forgotten his cuff links and sent Josh to retrieve them but had given a roomcard without telling him the room number and it was an emergency because the ceremony was starting any second. Swept up in the false urgency, the lady directed him to the executive suite on the top floor.

Of course they were staying in an executive suite. Josh had looked up prices when he was trying to upgrade with his new found cash and saw those suites were almost 2 grand per night. His mom couldn’t even give him a few hundred dollars to help him reunite with his family but could throw it away on excessive luxuries that didn’t even matter, which said a lot about how much he meant to her in comparison.

The elevator in the hotel needed a room key to work but Josh had intentionally waited until he saw a group heading towards it, then let one of them use theirs. Then once he got to the top floor it had been oh so easy to break in. All he needed to do was slide the do not disturb sign up the slit of the door to get a small gap in the lock mechanism, then he jammed his knife through and levered it open. It took all of 20 seconds. They were paying 2 grand a night for security that was worse than that of Tyler’s crackden.

Being in his mom and Jerry’s room was strange. He knew they were at the wedding so he had plenty of time to wait, and as first he had just sat at one of the many tables in the suite, quietly trembling, but there was too much anger and fear and anxiety and excitement flowing through his blood for him to sit still, so he explored.

First thing he did was rinse his blade in their marble sink. Not much of Jordan’s blood was on there, but any amount was too much so he scrubbed and scrubbed, then returned the knife to his back pocket and took his blazer off, hanging it on the back of a chair.

He knew he should feel something about cutting Jordan. He knew normal people should react to hurting a loved one. He knew this behaviour wasn’t conventional, but simultaneously Josh couldn’t understand why other people didn’t respond the same way he’d done. It hadn’t been intentional and so he had no reason to feel guilty; besides, at least this way Jordan would begin to appreciate what was at stake and how far he was willing to go.

The whole suite stunk of Jerry.

Josh rummaged through the drawers and pulled clothes from their hangers, not caring about the destruction he left behind, only trying to soak in who his mom had become over the years. She owned lots of dresses and wore disgusting amounts of lace.

Jerry’s belongings took up only a fraction of the space in the walk in wardrobe, but Josh couldn’t bring himself to touch any of the button up shirts or corduroy pants. Even without the weasel donning the outfits, he could feel himself catapulting into a vault of memories that weren’t to be thought of, so he backed out of the room fast and sucked in fresh breaths to ground himself.

He imagined how they acted in the space, he imagined the conversations they’d have, the sequence of events that took place as they dressed for the wedding, the way Jerry would trim his moustache over the sink and how Mom would dry shave her pits one final time. He imagined them sleeping together, at first side by side in the California King, with Mom reaching across to find Jerry’s thigh, fingers wondering to the waistline of his pyjamas, then Jerry grabbing her by the hips and lifting himself on top of her, picturing Josh’s adolescent body to get himself in the mood.

He imagined what it must be like, being his mom, knowing her lover was picturing her infant son as they fucked. He wondered what must have happened in her own childhood to warp her into a woman capable of marrying and homing a paedophile. Maybe she’d been touched too, maybe she was abused too, maybe she was - no. No, Josh stopped even considering giving his mom an excuse for the way she’d allowed him to be hurt.

Josh would never let his kids be hurt like him, would he?

Hatred wasn’t strong enough to describe the utter disgust Josh felt towards his Momma, a woman who’d used him as a pawn in the game to trap a man into staying with her. If it hadn’t been for Josh, Jerry never would have been attracted to joining their family. Josh’s innocence had been the bait to draw him in, and in Mom’s eyes, a small price to pay in return for a husband. To her, it was worth her son getting molested if she got to show her ex-husband that she didn’t need him.

Josh sometimes questioned what would have happened if his birth father had stuck around. Maybe then Mom wouldn’t have been so desperate to find someone new, and she wouldn’t have brought Jerry home, and he wouldn’t have ruined Josh’s life. Maybe he wouldn’t have had to turn to drugs, maybe he’d have kept his nose clean, have a clear record, maybe he’d have gone to college, had a shot at doing something with his life. Maybe he’d still have a family. Maybe he’d have worth. Maybe it wasn’t worth getting carried away by alternative versions of reality that would never see the light of day because Bill had walked away from them and Jerry had stepped into his place.

Jordan even called him Dad now.

In the bathroom, a room bigger than his whole apartment and possessing a mirror with a built in TV, Josh found two detachable toothbrush heads for one electric toothbrush they must share. He took the toothbrush in his hand, flipping it over to find the panel on the back, and unscrewed the tiny screw with the tip of his knife, dropping the plastic onto the floor. He pulled out the two batteries inside and pressed hard with his knife, hammering the end of it with his fist, managing to puncture them both, then he quickly poured the swelling liquid from inside the battery onto the toothbrush heads.

It was a somewhat pointless task, but pouring potassium hydroxide on the toothbrushes made him feel powerful.

He chucked the damaged batteries into the sink, pulled the little lever to close the plug, then put both the taps on at full strength. Having not finished high school, and spending most of the time he was there cutting in the toilet cubicles or thinking of ways to kill himself, Josh didn’t have a clue what might happen to the wet damaged batteries, but he did know that the bathroom was gonna flood pretty soon, so he walked away and let it happen.

Despite the suite having half a dozen different rooms, Josh kept getting drawn back to the bedroom. He paced the length of the bed half a dozen times, before being filled with a swell of confidence. Josh kicked off his rented leather shoes and clambered up into the middle of the bed, flopping back with a deep sigh.

He fell asleep in seconds.

He slept for almost exactly 2 hours.

He dreamt of drowning.

He woke up with a startle.

The bathroom taps were still hissing away and Josh was surprised that his feet didn’t get wet when he swung them round to the ground. Intrigued, he made his way back to the bathroom, rubbing his tired eyes, and saw for the first time that there was a hidden drain in the floor to prevent the flood he’d tried to cause. As grateful as he was for not drowning, he couldn’t help wishing that the devastation was more severe than the bottom of one towel hanging on the rack getting damp. He opted not to turn the taps off.

Time moved slowly as he waited for the occupants to return.

Sometimes he paced, sometimes he sat, sometimes he rummaged and sometimes he didn’t. It seemed to drag on and on, and for a while Josh considered leaving and then coming back at night to really take them by surprise, but not a moment later, he heard the beep of a keycard and the opening of the door.

“I’ll get it, don’t worry love, I’ll get-, oh shit, I think the bathroom flooded, I’ll call you back,”

Jerry hung up and sprinted into the bathroom, switching off the taps and bringing silence to the apartment for the first time in hours.

“Oh fucking hell, oh Jesus, typical, just my fucking luck,” Jerry grumbled to himself, accompanied by the sounds of splashing, and Josh took deep breaths, waiting in the bedroom. “That fucking cleaner bitch is an idiot, my god, I mean you pay for an execut-“

He stopped the moment he saw Josh, literally froze on the spot, then smiled. It was a false smile that didn’t meet his eyes, a smile orchestrated by two strings attached to each end of his lips, and Josh felt sick.

“Hey you, I was hoping you’d swing by,” Jerry put his hands in his pockets, rocking on his feet.  
“Is Jordan okay?” Josh growled in response.  
“2 stitches, not a problem, he’ll be absolutely fine. Course the same doesn’t go for you and your mother, she’s vowed never to speak you again, you’re cut off, and your sisters are the same. Jordan wants to see you one last time to punch you in the face, but after that he says he’s done too, so minimal physical damage, decades of trust damaged.”

They fell silent again and Josh could feel Jerry’s eyes all over him.

“The wedding was beautiful, that sister of yours, my my, what a stunner! And I take it you know the secret, right?” Jerry’s voice hadn’t changed one bit. “She’s 3 months pregnant! We’re gonna have a little baby in the family in no time at all - imagine that, your Daddy Jerry, a grandfather already!”  
“Boy or girl?”  
“Oh much too soon to tell, son,”  
“I take it you’re praying for a little boy, right? A fresh subject to get your grubby hands on?”  
“I don’t know what you’re implying, Joshie,”

Joshie, Joshie be quiet, be quiet Joshie, we don’t want to wake the others, do we Joshie? Now now Joshie, there’s no need to cry, enough crying Joshie, shh Joshie, relax, relax, Joshie relax.

“You know exactly what I’m implying,” his voice shook along with his hands. “You touch kids,”  
“My my, you always did have a big imagination, didn’t you Joshie?” Jerry took a comfortable step forwards and Josh staggered 3 backwards.  
“You, you touched me,”  
“You and I had special time, but that was always special to you, Joshie. I didn’t give anybody else my time like I did to you. You’re special, what we had, what we still have, it’s special.”

Josh could feel his insides twisting, every muscle repulsing, nausea wringing through his soul, every fibre clenching. He could barely breathe and he wanted to cry and he wanted to run and he wanted to die, but all he could do was maintain cloudy eye contact with Jerry.

“You didn’t, you, um, you didn’t, you didn’t touch anybody else then?”  
“Oh there have been others, but none of them special like you. There’s no need to get jealous.”  
“Jordan?”  
“Why yes, Jordan and I have had our fair share of rendezvous, but he’ll never be as special as you - you know why? He always enjoyed it far too much and you know I love to watch you struggle,”

For the second time that day, Josh lost control of himself and lunged at Jerry, blade drawn. He was overcome with anger at everything Jerry had destroyed, so many childhoods, so many lives, and as the knife landed in his gut with a squelch, Josh saw everything so intensely clear that it almost blinded him.

“You stabbed me!” Jerry cried out, both his hands instinctively going to the wound, trying to hold back the blood that was already soaking his white shirt. The hands were so familiar, the nails so dirty, the knuckles so tough, and before he even knew what he was doing, Josh slashed the back of both of them and they too began to bleed.

“Joshie please, Joshie, we can work this out, I’ll leave the other boys alone, you can have me all to yourself, just me and you, hey? Like you always wanted it?”

Josh was seeing red but wanted to see more red, plunging the knife into his belly again.

“Joshie, please,” Jerry stumbled backwards, trying to steady himself, but Josh shoved him to the ground, his head smacking the floor with a hard bang. Josh climbed on top of him, straddling him, knife firmly grasped in his right hand, and just like it was the thing he was born to do, Josh brought the weapon straight down into his chest, aiming for the heart, and again, aiming for the lungs, and again and again and again, smashing through ribs, leaving no gaps uncut, soaking up the thrill and allowing it to power him through the next stab and the next stab and the next stab.

“How you like that? Huh?? Huh?? How’d you like that?!” Josh grunted viscerally, a man possessed, and Jerry said nothing, eyes empty, bleeding from the mouth. Without hesitation, Josh stabbed him in the left eye, then stabbed him in the right eye, then sat up straight and panted for breath.

He was dead and Josh had killed him.

He should run.

He should run, but instead Josh climbed off the body, went to the bathroom, washed his knife in the overflowing sink, then returned to take the wallet and the phone from Jerry’s pockets. The wallet was ugly and quickly abandoned on the floor, but Josh pocketed the 200 bucks inside and then unlocked the password-less iPhone and went straight to the music app, scrolling through until he hit Etta James’s album and clicked on At Last.

Josh connected the phone to the bluetooth speaker system and let the smooth sound of the 60s pour out loud and proud as he helped himself to a glass of scotch from the crystal decanter on top of the bureau, and started running himself a bubble bath. Meanwhile the puddle of blood surrounding Jerry’s almost unidentifiable body grew and grew and grew.

Despite his pocket being lined with considerably more cash than in recent times, Josh had to take the bus back to Ohio rather than the far quicker flight, knowing TSA wouldn’t be too happy about him not carrying photo ID and refusing to give up his flick knife and the arrest warrant no doubt already put out for the murder of his stepfather. He genuinely wasn’t that disgruntled about another 60 hour coach journey though, it gave him the chance to sleep and to see the bleak countryside and to think.

By the time they eventually pulled into the Columbus stop, it had been nearly 3 days since Jerry had died and Josh was still buzzing, and the only person he wanted to share that buzz with was Tyler.

Even though it was a good 5 mile walk to the shitty area that his best friend called home, Josh seemed to float through the trek, duffel bag practically weightless, light on his feet. It barely seemed any time at all before he was in his neighbourhood, Crackhead Central, and he felt genuinely excited to be reunited with Tyler after so long without him by his side.

Since Tyler tended to loiter outside Josh’s home, it had been a while since Josh had actually gone to his place, and he almost couldn’t remember what it looked like. All the houses on that block were derelict and occupied by squatters, and Josh could feel the eyes of the gangs who ran the street watching him as he walked by groups sat on steps or caught faces staring out of broken windows, but he wasn’t scared. He felt invincible.

“Nah nah nah bud, don’t think so,” a huge white guy, at least 6ft 8 and 300lbs, with a stupid red bandana tied round his head to disguise his receding hair line, stood in the doorway that Josh tried to dip through and put his hand on Josh’s chest

“I’m here to see Tyler, get the fuck off me,”  
“Tyler’s working right now,”  
“And I said I’m here to see him,” Josh levelled up to the guy, genuinely fearless.  
“You know him?”  
“Yes,”  
“Then you should know he does pre-pay only these days,” the dude kept trying to stare him down.  
“For fuck sake, fine, but this goes straight to him, right?” Josh pulled a wad of cash from his pocket and took out $20, handing it over.

“My business arrangements are my business only. For 20 you’re only getting hand stuff by the way, you’re gonna have to double it and then some for an upgrade,”  
“I paid, you gonna move now? Or are we gonna have a problem?”  
“You don’t wanna start on me, dickwad,” the white guy mumbled under his breath but conceded, leading Josh down a disgraceful excuse for a front hall, trash everywhere and dents in the walls, before knocking three times on the final door on the left.

“Alright asshole, times up, get outta here,” he barked at the previous customer whilst Josh hovered outside, pumped to see Tyler.  
“I paid f-“  
“I know the fuck you paid for and you’ve had half an hour. If you seriously can’t get it up and in his ass in 30 minutes then that’s a problem for y’doctor, not me. I gotta nother guy lined up, so I advise you scram before I drag you outta here by your limp dick.”  
“Fucking Hell,” the customer seemed annoyed and Josh saw the huge guy take a threatening step forwards, and Josh smiled, glad Tyler finally had someone willing to protect him.

A skinny guy came running out, rushing to put his shirt back on, and the huge guy passed Josh’s order through to Tyler.

“He paid 10,” he lied, taking half the pay for himself.  
“Okay, but, but last one? Then I need a break,” Tyler sounded small and timid through the wall.  
“Let’s see if anyone else shows up, then we’ll see,” the huge guy turned back towards the front door and walked past Josh, meaning he could finally slip into Tyler’s room.

Tyler had lost a lot of weight in the week he’d been gone and looked deathly skinny, shoulders and elbows disgusting bulges on his stick thin arms. He was curled up on the floor, propped against the wall, surrounded by a mess of trash and debris and a hell of a lot of foil and baggies and needles.

“Hey buddy,”  
“Josh!” He seemed legitimately happy to see him, pulling a weak smile as Josh sank down to sit beside him, careful of a used needle stuck in the chipping floorboard.

“How was the wedding??”  
“It, uh, yeh, it was very cathartic,”  
“Did you do what you needed to do?”  
“I did, yes.” Josh felt a jolt of excitement pulse through him as he pictured Jerry’s face without his wondering eyes.

“I see you took my advice, found yourself some protection,”  
“Huh? Oh, White Power Pat,”  
“White Power Pat? That’s what you call him?”  
“That’s what he likes to go by,” Tyler shrugged, hugging his knees closer to his chest. “He took Doug’s room,”  
“You finally got rid of Doug, hey?”  
“Yeh! Yeh he, uh, yeh he’s dead,”  
“You do it?”  
“Me? No, he OD’d. Dead for 2 days before any of us checked on him,”  
“Shit man,”  
“These things happen,” Tyler shrugged. “I, um, I haven’t OD’d once since you left though,”  
“Good for you bud, really, well done.” Josh was proud of him and smiled warmly.

“I kinda guessed you might have, you know, since you stole all my money? Bet you bought a shit ton of smack with it.”  
“Only a hundred bags,”  
“Hundred bags for $1,182? Damn Tyler, did you treat yourself to some good shit?”  
“Maybe?” Tyler sniggered a guilty laugh and Josh couldn’t even pretend to feel angry towards him.

“Any left? Since I paid for it, seems only right that I get to use some of it.”  
“N-no, Josh, no, you’re, you’re clean dude, don’t-“  
“Bud, I don’t recall it being your decision to make. I wanna shoot up before the police get here and haul my ass off to jail for first degree murder and gimme life without parole, so can you help me? Or do I need to go someplace else to score?”  
“No, no, don’t go, no, I can help,” Tyler looked terrified at the idea of Josh leaving and scrambled across the floor, scraping his exposed shins against needles and glass but seemingly not caring as he hurried to a find a bag of dope as quickly as possible.

“You got a tie-off? I know you don’t use one but I’ve always preferred it,”  
“I, I can get one?” Tyler was shaking as he came back to Josh, holding a lighter, a spoon, a clearly already used needle and syringe, and a small plastic bag like the ones that held spare buttons in the nice shirts he wore as a kid, just this time containing a pale brown powder that had changed his life irreversibly.  
“Please?”  
“Okay,” he raced out the room, unsteady on his feet.

Josh let out a satisfied sigh as he carefully tipped the powder into the spoon and flicked the lighter once, twice, three times till it caught and began melting the good stuff down. This felt right.

“I took it from Pat’s room, don’t, d-don’t tell him,” Tyler came back with a string from a hoodie in his hands, and he knelt down by Josh’s side, carefully tying the string at exactly the right pressure just 3 inches above his elbow.

“Thanks bud,” Josh sniffed, boiling out those last few chunks.

“Josh?”  
“Yeh?”  
“Is it true? What you said earlier, about the police. Did, did you really kill someone?”  
“Yeh,” he sniffed again, dropping the lighter and sucking up the liquid with the syringe, his whole body on auto pilot already as he began scouring his arm for a plump vein, using the puncture scars as a guide.

“If you go to jail, who, who’s gonna look after me? Who’s going to, no, who, who am I gonna live for?? No Josh, no, you can’t go, please, don’t go. We can run away together, yeh? You and me? We’ll hide, I’m, I, I’m good at hiding, we can hide, please, don’t leave me out here on my own, please Josh,”

Just like a long awaited reunion between two old friends, Josh sunk the needle into his arm and slowly pushed the plunger until the whole barrel was emptied into his system and all he could do was roll his head back and smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know what you think please, I’ve never really done anything like this so feedback would be much appreciated
> 
> Of course I’m gonna keep working on my big boys and I love the depth I can get in a 100k+ fic, but do you guys like these 25k size ones?? If so, what other topics or prompts would you like me to have a go at?
> 
> Thanks for reading and if you’re new then please check out some of my other stuff :D
> 
> Maisie 
> 
> Twitter: anathemasparks  
> Tumblr: anathematrash  
> Email for fanart: ao3.maisie@gmail.com


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